It's a Dangerous Love Affair
by Gemmaaaaa
Summary: Lies, masks, blood and sex. The criminal underworld will swallow you up and spit you out again. One wants revenge and the other wants peace. Can their affair bring the downfall of the two biggest gangs of the underworld?
1. Chapter 1

_**Feel it coming in the air**_

 _ **And the screams from everywhere**_

 _ **I'm addicted to the thrill**_

 _ **It's a dangerous love affair…**_

The world was blurred around her as she ran, panting, sweating, every inch of her body burning and aching from the strain of it. They were close… Too close! She was long out of practice at running in a full sprint and the consequences were showing now in her slower than usual pace. What was she going to do? _Think! Think!_ There had to be something up ahead, a corner she could take, an alley to duck down behind… _Anything!_ They were gaining on her fast and if she didn't think of something soon, she was done for.

Padme dared to look back over her shoulder and winced. Their thunderous footsteps and shouts were loud enough to know they were right behind her. The gunshots were also a good reminder. Keep going. Keep going. She had to keep going! If she was caught, she was dead. _Keep going!_ A corner came up she could duck around but just as Padme thanked her lucky stars, a loud shout came from behind her. "She's over here!"

Not brave enough to look back, she pushed on toward the corner where the sound of a busy road promised a potential getaway. Then it happened. A horrifying burst of gunshots cracked from behind her just as the corner was within reach. Padme threw herself around it for cover but was too slow. An agonising burn exploded through her left thigh making her cry out. She wanted to stop, to fall down and take the weight off her now injured leg but she was in for far worse than a gunshot wound if they caught her.

With that in mind, Padme braced herself against the pain and the warm gush of blood running down her leg and ran. She threw herself onwards and toward the road, desperately searching for someone, anyone to help. The road had quietened itself and the street was deserted no doubt on the account of the sound of gunshots. Most people around here didn't want anything to do with the criminals who ran around the area. Everyone knew almost everything that went on was the work of with the rival Hutts and Clovis gangs.

No one wanted to witness anything.

A pair of headlights appeared in the distance and came down the road fast. Over the speed limit fast. It was Padme's one hope as twilight fell upon the streets; the light in the distance was her only chance at survival. The bright red car sped closer and she took a breath. Do or die. Gathering her courage, the ran toward the road as quickly as her injured leg would permit and without allowing herself another moment to think about it, threw herself in front of it.

* * *

Anakin's hands tapped against the steering wheel as his favourite song played on. The drum solo was always the best part. His mind was miles away from the road which was empty anyway, so he took advantage and put his foot down a little. What was the harm in speeding if no one was around to see? Lost in the music, he didn't take notice of the men dressed in black running down the street at first, not until one of them produced a gun and aimed at a limping woman a little further down.

 _What the fuck…?_

His eyes were locked onto the three men as they raced down the quiet sidewalk so he didn't notice her as she launched herself at his car until she practically landed on his hood. Anakin gave a cry and crashed his foot down onto the brake, making the car screech a few meters down the road before coming to a full stop. The woman glanced beyond the car, where he'd seen her pursuers racing toward her, before meeting his eyes desperately. " _Please,_ help me!"

Anakin watched her climb off the hood of his car and felt his mind speed off with a million thoughts a second. What the hell was going on here? Time seemed to still for a second as he took her in. Her bottom lip was split and almost every part of her he could see was littered in cuts and bruises and he was willing to bet there were more beneath her clothes… She wasn't in a good state and it was probably because of the goons on her tail.

It would be easy to drive off and pretend he hadn't seen anything. It wasn't his responsibility to help random women on the street… But he couldn't. He shouldn't be getting himself caught up in whatever _this_ was, but Anakin knew that if he drove away now, he'd never be able to look himself in the mirror without shame again. God only knew what would happen to her if those guys got their hands on her. He gave a frustrated sigh and reached across the passenger seat to open the door.

 _Fuck. Fuck. Fuck._

"Get in!"

She didn't have to be told twice. The women practically threw herself inside and slammed the door shut behind her. The moment she was inside, Anakin put his foot down again and took off, speeding faster than before, urgently. Behind the car, there was incoherent shouting and gunshots aimed at his windows. The shattering of glass behind him told Anakin that at least one of the goons had good aim. He raced further down the street, no destination in mind, and took every corner he came across, just in case they were behind followed.

After thirty minutes of mindless driving, finally, Anakin backed his car into a dark alleyway and turned toward the woman. Her face was ashen and sickly, she was sweating and only now things were slightly calmer did he realise she was bleeding. Damn… She'd been hit…

 _Take her to a hospital_ , part of him whispered, _drop her off and then it's out of your hands._

But he couldn't do that. Anakin watched her eyes roll backwards and cursed. She was going to bleed out right here in his passenger seat if they stayed here, but if he took her to a hospital, whoever was after her would have a much easier time finding her. There were only so many people in the city sporting gunshot wounds to the thigh. He'd taken her in and now it was his responsibility to make sure she stayed alive. He groaned and hauled himself out of the car. There was a little convenience store two minutes from here, he'd pick up a first aid kit and see what he could do. He was no expert, but he knew about basic bullet wound recovery. If necessary he could pull it out of her… That didn't mean he was happy about this.

While in the store, Anakin stole a moment to take a calming breath. It was going to be alright. There was a wanted woman bleeding out in his car, but everything was going to be fine. He'd patch her up best he could, let her sleep off the pain and send her on her way. He didn't need any extra attention brought his way. He leant a hand on the medical supply shelf and closed his eyes tightly. _It was going to be fine._ The moment passed and he grabbed the first medical kit he saw, a large green plastic box with images of its contents, without looking at the price.

The sales assistant didn't give him a second glance as she rung him up, which he was grateful for. He thought back to the unconscious girl in his car. What kind of trouble was she in? It had to be bad. Worse than bad, judging by the three armed guys chasing her through the streets, someone wanted her dead or alive. That kind of stuff was usually traced back to the city gangs… Did she owe money to someone? No, Anakin doubted anyone would send armed goons after someone for money. He knew what the head honchos did to people who owed them money… He almost shuddered.

So who was after her? And more importantly, why?

He quickly paid for the first aid kit and walked briskly back toward the car before climbing in. His apartment was just a few minutes from here if he took a shortcut or two… It would be safer dealing with her wounds there, where no one could see. Because, if she was in the kind of trouble he thought she was in, Anakin couldn't afford to be seen with her.

 _If it's the Clovis' that's after her and someone sees me helping? Jabba will be the least of my worries._

He'd been working with the criminal gangster clan the Hutts for five years now; he couldn't risk getting involved in another crew's shit. His loyalty to the Hutts couldn't be seen to be compromised. But _fuck his life,_ here he was.

Anakin quickly restarted the car and made his way toward his apartment as quickly as he could without crashing into the other cars on the road. Whatever the consequences, the girl in the passenger seat needed his help and he was going to give it to her.


	2. Chapter 2

**_A/N: So! Yes, I'm still alive. I promise I'm working my way through my story updates (slowly!). They are coming, don't worry. Until then, I finished this entire story a few months ago and decided to finally post it. It'll be updated every Thursday. Hope you enjoy!_**

The first thing Padme became aware of was the pain in her head. Even before she dared to blink her eyes open her head throbbed promising a migraine when she _did_ decide to open her eyes and move. Next came an overwhelming sense of nausea that almost forced her to move prematurely, but thankfully it passed. Just when it felt like things couldn't get any worse, the wound in her thigh decided to remind her of its presence by flaring up with a painful burning sensation.

The surprise of it drew Padme's eyes wide open and she was confronted by an unfamiliar ceiling. _Where was she?_ Her memory was hazy… Clovis' men were chasing her through the streets… There was a car and… She couldn't remember. Had she been caught? No, surely not… This was too gentle an awakening for someone as cruel and vengeful as Clovis. After what she'd done, Padme probably wouldn't have woken up at all if she was back in his hands.

If she wasn't in Clovis' prison again, then where _was_ she?

It wasn't easy to sit up and her leg throbbed in protest, but slowly, inch by inch, Padme forced herself into a sitting position, resting her back against the wooden headboard behind the bed. It was only when the blankets fell away that she realised her state of dress… Or rather _undress._ Panic surged through her. When being chased before, she'd been wearing an old ratty pair of jeans and a white t-shirt with converse. Nothing fancy but it covered the disgusting lingerie Clovis had made her wear.

Now she was _only_ wearing the expensive underwear and her breath quickened. Wherever she was, someone had undressed her. Padme quickly pulled the blanket back up around her body and shivered. She'd almost rather be back out there on the street being chased than this. Was she in danger? Had she found herself in the same set up as before with a different captor?

Just as her panic was reaching a peak that left her breathless, the door to the bedroom slowly opened and Padme braced herself. To her surprise, a tall, blonde man stepped through and quickly shut it again behind him. "You're up." He said.

"Where am I?" Padme demanded.

Whoever he was, he had the nerve to roll his eyes. "You don't remember?" When she shook her head, he sighed, "you were being chased and threw yourself onto my car. You were pretty beaten up so I brought you to my apartment to patch up your leg. You lost a lot of blood." Beneath the blanket, her fingers reached for her aching thigh and found gauzy bandages wrapped tightly around it. He'd _helped_ her? The concept felt so foreign… What did he expect in return? The man came further into the room and held up his hands. "I'm not going to hurt you."

Padme watched him slowly ease himself down onto the edge of the bed with narrowed eyes. He was a stranger and she didn't know where his apartment was. She could be anywhere in the city… Or outside of it. The bedroom was plain, cream walls, a bed and a small bedside table. It didn't look like someone's home, it wasn't lived in. There were no pictures or decorations or signs of life. No personality. It felt false.

She swallowed despite her mouth being too dry for it. "You undressed me."

The man threw her a look which made her feel like a little girl again. "You were shot. The wound needed to be cleaned and stitched. Would've been hard to do that through your jeans." He reached up to scratch at the back of his neck awkwardly. "Your shirt is being cleaned but the jeans were ruined with blood. I bagged them up and threw them in the garbage. Sorry."

It made sense. Padme didn't like it, but the more pragmatic side of her was grateful. This stranger had saved her life and had the thoughtfulness to try to save her only shirt afterwards too. Her eyes lowered to the blanket she'd covered herself with and pressed her lips together tightly for a moment. "Thank you… For saving me. Not many people would have stopped."

If he hadn't stopped she dreaded to imagine what position she'd be in right now. Maybe she'd be dead from her wounds? Maybe Clovis would have kept her alive for a little longer to continue her torment. She couldn't think about it. Just the imaginings made her fingers shake.

The man edged slightly closer and Padme lifted her gaze to meet his eye. "Why were they chasing you?" He asked quietly. "Most girls don't have three armed men after them on a Monday evening."

At that Padme closed her eyes again. _Most girls…_ She wasn't most girls. What she would give to be just a normal girl out in the world living a free and uncomplicated life… What would _any_ of the girls who'd she'd bunked with in Clovis' prison have given for that? Against her will, memories of him, of Rush Clovis flashed before her mind, above her, over her… _Inside her_ … She could feel his breath, hear his moans… Suddenly, she felt like she might vomit.

He'd still have his men out there looking for her. They'd be trailing through every street while searching. Clovis was a powerful man who ran a powerful family; he had connections, money and a legion of seedy people who worked for him. She couldn't go back out there, not for a few days at least. It wasn't safe. But could she depend on this man? He was a _stranger_. He may have saved her life but that didn't mean he'd be willing to let her hide in his apartment. Maybe he'd send her on her way as soon as she was able to walk?

She had to be bold and take the risk. Her life depended on it. "You've already done so much for me…" Padme began quietly, "but I… It's not safe out there for me. They're looking for me, I know they are. Would it be alright if I… If I stayed here? Just for a day or two. _Please_ ," her voice cracked, "I'm in big trouble."

"What kind of trouble?" His azure eyes hardened.

Padme couldn't blame him, not many people wanted strange wounded women bringing danger to their doorsteps. It was only fair he wanted to know what he was getting into… But she couldn't very well tell him the whole truth, not without making things worse. No, she had to be inventive. But her head hurt and her leg felt tight and heavy so her normally quick mind failed to create a convincing cover story. Weaving the truth with fabrication to protect herself seemed like the only choice.

She sniffled and slid her arm out of the blankets to wipe at her eyes. "Have you ever heard of Rush Clovis?"

He flinched and nodded.

"I was… I was one of his _girls."_ Padme spat the word and held up her wrist to reveal the small black letter C inked into her skin, Clovis' branding, ensuring everyone knew she was his _property_. Even the sight of it revolted her. The man's eyes widened for a moment before he masked his emotions again. "I've been there for two years. My sister, Dorme, managed to find where he was keeping me and the others and came to help me get out." Tears stung at Padme's eyes as the fresh memories pulled at her heart. "She – there was so many of his men… They killed her and the others who came to help. I saw it. There was a lot of confusion so I just – I _ran away…"_

Her face crumpled as she recalled Dorme's death on the disgusting floor in that bunker. They were supposed to get away together, that had been the plan! How could it have gone so wrong? Sobs wracked through her body as the grief was finally allowed a chance to wash over her. It was _all_ her fault and she'd just _run_ away! She'd _left_ her there alone. Clovis and his men would probably do to her what they'd done to the bodies of the other women who'd died in there. Dorme would be dumped in the river never to be found again…

The man was quiet for a long time. Long enough that Padme's sobs subsided, but he looked at her with sad eyes throughout. Finally, just when she was beginning to accept her fate of being kicked out onto the streets, he cleared his throat. "I – I'm sorry." He said quietly. "You can stay as long as you need."

Her watery gaze met his strained one, surprised. He was letting her stay? She couldn't… She couldn't believe it! There weren't many people in the world who'd let a criminal gang leader's escaped whore hide in their apartment. She wiped away the wetness from her cheeks and shook her head, reeling. "I don't even know your name."

He gave a shrug and a half-smile that didn't reach his blue eyes. "I don't know yours either."

She nodded. "Amidala." Her real name wasn't something Padme could afford to give out, not to anyone. It was too dangerous. Sticking to the false name she'd been using instead made sense. It was the safest option for now.

He looked at her for a moment, eyes narrowing, before nodding. "Anakin."

* * *

Anakin fell back onto his couch with a grunt. _What was he thinking_? He shouldn't be letting her stay, he should have carried her to his car and dropped her off at the nearest hostel for endangered women and sped off. It was dangerous to get involved with his. She was from Clovis' faction and though there was peace between them and the Hutts, for now, but it was a shaky treaty with both sides just _waiting_ for a reason to break it.

In his mind, he went over Amidala's story again and again… It made sense, but at the same time, something about it didn't. It was crass, but no gang boss sent out three armed men after an escaped brothel girl. It was an inconvenience, an annoyance, but no more than that. Why would Rush Clovis of all people send men after her? From what Amidala had said, he had an entire harem of women to pimp out and use as he pleased… What was so special about her? She was beautiful, yes, undoubtedly, but beauty wasn't worth the effort he'd put into trying to catch her. Anakin couldn't make sense of it.

There was something about her… Something that called to Anakin, that whispered that maybe she was worth the danger… Worth saving.

But up until yesterday, she'd been the property of Rush Clovis and his family and that was no laughing matter. The Clovis' were powerful, almost as powerful as the Hutts. Crossing them was serious and usually meant dire consequences. Amidala had lost her sister trying to escape them and if he hadn't helped her she would have probably lost her life too. She was clearly serious about getting out… It made Anakin wonder, what would she think if she knew exactly whose car she'd leapt into?

He worked for the Hutts and they were worse than the Clovis'.

The Hutt's had their own brothels of stolen and sold women; Anakin had seen them with his own eyes more than once. They'd all – no matter what race or age or length of time in captivity – looked worn down and defeated. As if they'd let go of all hope and resigned themselves to their fate. It hurt to look at. The mistreatment and abuse they suffered had effectively stamped out the life from their eyes, the energy from their bones… It was disgusting.

But there was something different about Amidala. Her eyes weren't dark and void; her spark was still there. He'd seen it yesterday when she'd pleaded for his help. She still had her strength and her will, something girls like her usually lost quickly.

There was something missing from her story, a detail, a truth that kept the whole picture from coming together in his mind. _What was it_? What was she hiding?

Who was this girl?

He gave a long sigh and forced himself up from the couch. From the kitchen, he could hear the turning of his laundry machine as it bleached and soaked the blood out of Amidala's shirt. Most people would think deep blood stains on a thin white shirt meant it was beyond saving but Anakin knew better. He wished he didn't, but he did. Amidala was going to need something to wear when she left, so he'd done his best for it.

For now, he had to check on his car. A bullet hole through the window wasn't going to be easy to explain to the neighbours and harder to explain to the boss. _Fuck_. He grabbed his coat from where it hung over the door and pulled it on, not bothering to let Amidala know he was leaving. He shouldn't be gone long and he'd left water on the bedside table with painkillers. He'd grab some food on the way back.

When he got downstairs and took a moment to check the damage, Anakin gritted out a long curse. _Fucking Clovis bastards_! His entire back window was shattered with several bullet holes dotting around his trunk and number plates. This wasn't gonna be cheap to fix… It could be fast if it went to the right person and it'd have to be. He was due at the Hutt's house tomorrow morning for a meeting. _Damn it_. Nothing to do about it now but hope no cops pulled him over on the way… Then he'd be _royally_ fucked.

It was only when he rounded the car to get inside that Anakin realised his wing-mirror had been taken out too. He wanted to kick something. Then preferably track down the son of a bitch who did this and force his head through one of the remaining windows…

 _Calm down…_

Anakin gave an irritated grunt as he climbed inside the car and slammed the door shut hard enough that the sound echoed throughout the building. He was going to be gone longer than he thought. Getting to Watto's where they'd fix this no questions asked was going to take driving down backroads and avoiding busy streets as much as possible. He pressed his head to the wheel with a long groan before picking up his phone.

He hoped his new roommate liked Chinese.


	3. Chapter 3

A week passed and then another. Amidala recovered enough of her strength to begin taking care of herself without Anakin's aid. She's insisted she could change her own bandages and keep the wound clean without his help and he respected that, leaving her to her own devices. He was no expert on the recovery process from bullets but a quick Google search and some YouTube videos had given him a general guide on what to expect.

She needed to move her leg to recover her strength which she did upon his suggestion. Small laps of the living room with Anakin supporting her arm became larger laps of the apartment without his help and then, finally, Amidala demanded he let her try the building stairs. This had made Anakin sweat. The last thing he needed was her to fall and make her leg worse and lengthen her stay. It was hard enough balancing having someone here all the time and working.

But she was strong, he'd noticed that right away and she was recovering fast. He'd seen grown men twice her size take longer to bounce back from a bullet… She was really something alright. The spark he'd seen in her big brown eyes, the _determination_ he sensed inside of her only seemed to grow each passing day. Anakin had never seen anyone like her before.

At 5pm his phone buzzed and Anakin tensed. That only meant one thing. He was being called in. Amidala was resting in the guest bedroom and he didn't want to wake her but being called in usually meant he was going to be gone for a few hours. And almost _always_ longer than expected. Pocketing the phone without glancing at the message, he pulled on his dark jacket and snatched a piece of paper from the table to leave Amidala a note. It was polite. He doubted she'd care where he was but his mother had raised him to have manners at least…

The thought of Shmi sent a cold shudder down Anakin's spine. Shrugging it off, he penned six quick words in blue ink and left it on the table.

" _Gone to work. Be back late."_

He arrived at the Hutt's expensive mansion approximately forty minutes later and entered without knocking. No one was around which was normal, the kingpin of the Hutt clan, Jabba, took his meetings in the west wing of the estate well away from the centre and east wings, where the family resided. Large ornate paintings of the previous generations of Hutts hung high on the walls, larger than Anakin's apartment walls. Every one of them was large and seemingly gluttonous with dark beady eyes watching him pass by.

Anakin paid the paintings no mind, long used to the unfortunate looking criminal family's oddly sluggish appearances. It was worse in person anyway. He rounded a corner and was faced with a large black door which sat ajar as a familiar tanned skin man made his way out. He would know the man anywhere, the telltale scar below his eye would always tell of his identity. Anakin gave a curt nod, "Fett."

The man followed suit and stepped passed without a word before disappearing around the corner Anakin had just turned. Rolling his shoulders, he stepped toward the door and let himself inside. A raucous beat filled his ears, loud and upbeat, and it only made him want to turn back and leave. Music like that meant Jabba was entertaining. _Why does he want me here…?_

It took everything in Anakin's power not to roll his eyes as scantily clad women walked passed him with a silver tray bearing an assortment of expensive drinks in hand. _It was probably all laced._ He stepped further into the fold, slipping by men in suits, women in short, silky dresses and staff rushing around. White smoke from vapes and other devices filled the air making it stale and difficult to breathe. He waved his hand in front of his face as he made his way by, stifling a groan.

It was only when he saw the kingpin himself sitting high on his ornate armchair salivating over a woman dancing on a pole ahead that ice filled Anakin's veins. It wasn't hard to see the woman's eyes were dull and sunken with her mind miles away and beyond the moment. _They've doped her up._ His mouth turned down unpleasantly as his eyes took in the lacy red underwear she wore. It reminded him of what Amidala was wearing when he'd saved her.

Anakin's eyes flicked up to Jabba, a large and horribly obese man. Like most of the portraits, he was bald and sluggish. Every bit as disgusting on the outside as on the inside. A thick golden chain lay around his colossal neck, perhaps it was intended to draw attention away from the large, uneven pink scar across his throat… But Anakin found it only drew his attention to it more. He didn't know the full story behind the attempt on the head Hutt's life, but there were whispers of a power-hungry nephew and a failed assassination.

He'd never seen a nephew around here.

The woman ground herself against the silver pole as men around her jeered and threw bills she'd never touch toward her podium. She lifted a hand to run through her hair and Anakin's eyes caught the big black " _J"_ inked onto her wrist. _Just like Amidala_. She was a sex slave too. His stomach churned. He'd never been oblivious to all this before but it'd been easier to ignore _that_ part of Jabba's empire when he hadn't seen the damage and the _pain_ it caused. He'd seen it in Amidala's eyes when she'd told him her story.

 _What's this girl's story?_

"Ah! Anakin!" A voice pulled him from his thoughts. "You're here. Good." Jabba's advisor, assistant and voice, Bib Fortuna, spoke up, smiling manically and gestured for him to step forward. The man was pale and thin, his skin pink and shiny enough to give the impression of slime. It made him shudder. Anakin had heard Jabba's voice only once or twice in the five years he'd been working here and it was small, raspy and barely above a whisper thanks to the attempted throat slitting incident.

As beckoned, Anakin moved through the crowd and stepped forward. The dancer on the pole kept moving, oblivious to everything around her even after the bright spotlight which had brought her to the attention of everyone in the room died. Anakin could only see her thanks to the close proximity. Close enough to see the cuff around her ankle keeping her at the pole. _Sick son of a bitch…_ He thought as he looked back at Jabba.

The disgusting crime boss spoke into his helper's ear and the man nodded eagerly without taking his eyes off of Anakin as he waited. "Ah, yes, I see." He nodded. "Anakin, Jabba was very happy with the work you did on Mr Dooku. The payment has been given in full." The giddy man gave him a cold smile, "and Jabba has thanked you generously." Bib threw a crisp white envelope Anakin's way and he caught it with ease. He didn't need to open it to know what it was. A couple of grand in cash. Clearly with a little extra this time.

"Thank you, Jabba." He nodded toward the large man on the chair. "Dooku wasn't hard to break." In the end, it'd been a matter of how many fingers Anakin had to snap before the older man gave in. An easy day's work.

"Your loyalty and resourcefulness haven't gone unnoticed." Bib spoke slowly, "and Jabba would like to make your partnership with his family official."

 _Official._ Anakin felt himself pale with the sinking resignation to what was inevitably coming. Jabba liked his work, liked how he hurt people in his name and got what the Hutts wanted from them. Anakin was good at it, good enough that Jabba wanted to ensure he was theirs, tied to their family for good. _There was no getting out after this._ He was fucked. From seemingly nowhere a black leather office chair rolled beside him hitting against his legs and hip and he licked his lips.

 _There's no getting out of this one._

"I'm honoured." He forced himself to say and nodded appreciatively toward Jabba. Bib gestured toward the chair as roars and howls of applause from the guests filled the room. They knew just as much as Anakin did what was about to happen. Mustering a smile, Anakin shrugged off his jacket and handed it to one of the servers before beginning to undo his shirt. He slid it off once it was open and sunk down into the chair, the back of it pressing against his chest as he straddled it backwards.

From behind him, a buzzing began, barely audible above the music and guests, but Anakin heard it. It made his stomach sink.

 _I just hope the needle's been sterilised._

* * *

Anakin got home a few hours later and his back was _killing_ him. He still felt every prick of the needle gun into his skin, especially when he lifted his arms or pressed anything against his back. That was it… He was branded by the Hutts. _One of them._ The words had replayed themselves over and over in his head whilst the tattoo had been marked into his skin. Of course, he'd already known his time was limited before he had to get one, but Anakin was a fan of putting off the inevitable sometimes.

Now he wore the brand of Jabba's empire Anakin was part of it and until the end, there was no going back.

He'd just have to be careful around Amidala now… He was willing to bet she wouldn't react well if she found out who he worked for. More of the same, people just like the ones she'd escaped from. The tattoo was on his back anyway, it'd be pretty easy to keep away from her. Wasn't like he was planning to be shirtless around her any time soon… To his annoyance, Anakin felt heat warm up his cheeks at the thought.

 _Stop that! She was abused._

The thought sent guilt crashing through his stomach. It was wrong, after everything she'd been through with the Clovis', to think about her that way. It only lasted a moment before he shrugged it off and walked through his door, closing and locking it behind him. Immediately, a mouth-watering smell filled Anakin's nostrils… It smelled like food… He wasn't sure what exactly, but it made his stomach rumble regardless.

He followed the smell to the kitchen where Amidala was carefully pulling something out of his oven seemingly unaware of his return. On the counter beside her, there was a half drank glass of red wine which he noticed with a small smile, leaning on the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest. _She'd really made herself at home here, hadn't she?_

Whatever she was making smelled _incredible_ and his stomach rumbled in agreement. The slight noise alerted Amidala to Anakin's presence and she turned her head, placing the white ceramic dish onto the counter attentively. "You're back."

"Yeah, sorry, I didn't mean to be out so late." His back gave a painful throb in agreement and it struck Anakin suddenly how _domestic_ this was. It was a weird and foreign feeling and he pushed it out of his head as quickly as it came. Amidala didn't say anything as he wandered further into the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of painkillers from the highest cupboard before reaching for a glass.

"Headache?" She asked after a moment.

"Something like that." He shrugged and filled the glass with water.

Anakin felt her gaze as he dropped two pills into his mouth and swallowed a generous gulp of water to flush them down. He hadn't mentioned anything about his work but she was a smart woman, Anakin didn't doubt she'd start having suspicions soon enough. _Then what?_ She was free to leave any time she liked, she'd asked _him_ to stay after all, not the other way around. Maybe it'd be nice to get his apartment to himself again.

 _Or maybe she'd try to kill you if she found out._

Anakin looked at her for a long moment catching her warm gaze and wondered if she was capable.

"What're you cooking?" He asked instead.

She tore her eyes away from his and Anakin wished he felt relieved. "Chicken casserole. I hope you don't mind, I noticed you bought groceries and I didn't want them to go to waste."

He nodded despite the fact she wasn't looking at him but he didn't take much notice. Everything about this was _odd_. Amidala was standing in his kitchen like it was the most natural thing in the world, cooking away as if she owned the place… Nobody had cooked for him since his mother… His throat choked for a second until he forced a small cough to clear it. _No, don't think like that._

"Have you eaten yet?" Amidala asked suddenly, turning back around to look at him and Anakin shook his head. He hadn't realised how hungry he was until getting here and smelling what she'd made. At that, she smiled and nodded, standing on her tiptoes to reach the plates. He watched her for a moment, realising suddenly just how _short_ she was. It brought an unwelcome swell of affection into his chest. Watching her struggle to reach things was actually kind of cute…

Without thinking, Anakin stepped closer to her and grabbed two places from where her arm was outstretched. She had no chance without his help. From his new close proximity, he could tell she'd showered not long ago. Her hair was still slightly damp and curly when it'd always been straight before. To his surprise, Anakin found that he liked it… She looked good. And he could smell a faint waft of his body-wash and deodorant coming from her.

 _Damn._

His throat felt tight and his mouth was dry. It was only when she went stiff against him that Anakin realised what he was doing and stepped back quickly. _What the fuck was he thinking?_ He thought of the woman from Jabba's place and hated himself. Amidala was a _victim_ , just like that girl. It wasn't right to invade her personal space like that. He cleared his throat and looked down to his boots awkwardly, holding out the plates with one hand.

The silence spanned for a few moments until Amidala gave a small chuckle, pulling Anakin's eyes back to hers. "You know," she started with a smile, " _nothing_ in this apartment is friendly to short people."

He barked out a laugh before he could stop himself. "That's because you're the first short person to ever come here." It was only then Anakin realised what she was wearing. A pair of his black boxers and her white shirt. His mouth went drier than before. _Fuck._ Something about it appealed to him strongly, she looked better like this than she had in the skimpy underwear he'd found her in. Against his wishes a hot flush of desire washed over Anakin and he tore his eyes away and looked at the floor again.

 _I'm a monster._

Later, when they were both sitting by his small table with the food Amidala had cooked Anakin caught her looking at him curiously. "How was work?" She asked.

His stomach sank when he noticed her eyes linger on his split and bruised knuckles. That'd been from getting Jabba's money from Dooku. "How's your leg?" He asked in quiet retaliation and took another mouthful of food.

Amidala's eyes fell away from him and down to her food. "It's alright. A little painful from being on it for so long today."

He rolled his shoulders and winced. The pain from the tattoo had returned which was going to make sleeping a real pain in the ass tonight. "Me too." He answered her original question and reached for his water. When her eyes lingered on him expecting more, Anakin sighed. "It was a long day."

Wanting to change the subject, he looked back down at his plate and voiced a question that'd been nagging at him since he got home. "So, where'd you learn to cook?" Was that okay to ask? Anakin had to admit he was curious… He knew for sure that cooking wasn't something the Hutts taught their girls; maybe the Clovis clan was different? Maybe _Amidala_ was just different?

She gave him a tight-lipped smile and looked down at her plate for a second or two. "Oh, my mom taught me when I was a little girl. I haven't been able to do it in so long… It was nice to feel _normal_ for a change."

Anakin felt like a piece of shit.

"I… I'm sorry." He muttered guiltily.

Amidala met his eye with a truer smile, bigger and real. "No, don't be."

They were quiet for a little while after that but not uncomfortably so. It was actually kind of nice. He hadn't had someone in his apartment or at his table in… Well, a long time. He hadn't realised just how starved for company he really was until now. This job had taken up too much of his time.

When they'd finished, Anakin gathered the dishes together to load into the dishwasher while Padme watched. He felt her eyes on him and tried to ignore the warmth that followed the knowledge. "Anakin? What happened to your knuckles?" She asked.

 _Fuck_.

"Went too far at the gym." He mumbled and shut the dishwasher over hoping his answer would be enough to appease her.

"The gym?" Amidala repeated. "How'd you manage to do that at the gym?"

Good question. "Boxing. I do boxing." The lie came to him quickly, rough and not well thought out. Boxing meant using gloves and safety equipment designed to avoid leaving damage like the cuts and bruises on his knuckles. Hopefully, she wouldn't know that. Anakin met her eye as if he had nothing to hide and after a moment or two, she nodded.

"My leg is starting to strain a little; I should probably get some sleep." She made to move past him but paused, tipping her chin upwards to look him in the eye. "Goodnight Anakin."

"Goodnight."

Anakin watched her walk toward the spare bedroom which had quickly become hers and frowned. She'd been standing on her leg cooking for _at least_ a couple of hours… The wound was a few weeks old now and could handle the strain but it would be _painful_ by now. She barely limped. This woman could handle pain far better than most people Anakin knew including men twice her age and size… Her kind of resilience was rare.

 _Who are you Amidala?_ He found himself wondering. His mind went back over her story again and just like before Anakin was left feeling like the beautiful, strong woman in his apartment was hiding something from him. That feeling did nothing to get rid of the pull he felt toward her though. It was maddening. She was different. He'd never felt attracted to any of the girls held in Jabba's brothel or the dancers he hired to _entertain_ at his parties… Neither had any girl outside this world, _free_ women, who were oblivious to everything Anakin knew about the world. None of his encounters with them had captured his interest either.

But Amidala? God, he was drawn to her. He was like a moth to a damned flame for her. Desire warmed his blood as the memory of her in his boxers and that tight little shirt flashed before his eyes.

And worse, it wasn't just _lust_ that she brought to his mind either. Anakin spent most of his days thinking about her, about her recovery, trying to piece together the truth of her past and captivity inside the Clovis' mansion. It was almost like… Like part of him was starting to care about her. And that was dangerous. The last person he'd cared about was his mother and she…

 _Damn it._

Anakin fell back into his seat by the table and ran a hand through his hair.

He was fucked.

* * *

Padme slowly blinked herself awake and let the remaining sleepiness fade away peacefully. It was nice to be able to just _lie_ here and not worry about what came next. There was no rush for once and she enjoyed it. Eventually, she couldn't keep laying there and threw back the covers and carefully stepped out of bed. Her leg didn't hurt so much anymore, but still, Padme was careful with it. She had to recover if she wanted to get away from Clovis and his cronies once and for all.

After making the bed and throwing on one of Anakin's shirts and another pair of his boxers she left the bedroom to find the apartment was empty. A glass of water and painkillers sat on top of a folded piece of paper in the kitchen and Padme crossed the room to pick it up.

" _Gone to work. More painkillers are in the bathroom if you need them. I moved the plates and bowls down a bit so you don't starve, Midget."_

Despite the little insult, Padme laughed. Properly and truly laughed for the first time in what felt like forever. The sound and feel where so foreign to her it brought tears to her eyes. Her fingers traced over the pen marks which made up the letters and read it over three more times. Anakin was an enigma. He was kind enough to take her in and help her; he stitched up her wound and gave her his clothes… He knew who and what she'd been and hadn't treated her like anything _less_ for it. And most importantly, he hadn't tried _anything_ with her. The only time he'd so much as entered into her personal space was to help her reach the plates last night.

But on the other hand, Padme wasn't blind. She knew he was troubled. She wasn't an idiot; nobody came home with bruised and bloody knuckles from boxing at a gym. Something was going on with him but she wasn't sure what exactly. And it wasn't her business anyway.

Her leg was doing better and she couldn't stay here forever. The smile fell away from her face at that, but it was true. There were things she had to do, important things that fell to Padme now that Dorme was… Her throat tightened suddenly.

There was no more avoiding it or pushing to the back of her mind to focus on healing. Dorme was dead. She was gone forever and now Padme had to shoulder the responsibility they shared. She just… She _didn't understand_ how it'd gone so terribly wrong. Everything had been planned meticulously down to the finest details. But somehow, she'd failed. She'd failed Dorme and everyone who was depending on her. It was time there was no more avoiding it.

She had to contact Obi-wan.

But in order to do that, Padme needed a phone. Anakin had one but it was a cell phone and he wasn't home so it was almost certainly with him. She hadn't noticed a landline anywhere in the apartment but maybe she'd just missed it? Maybe he had a spare sitting around?

Padme spent the morning searching the apartment, rifling through everything but _nothing_ turned up. Not a phone or a landline or even a _laptop_! She'd never known anyone who had as little technology as Anakin. It was blood boilingly frustrating. Eventually, there was only one room she hadn't searched.

Anakin's room.

A sense of decency and propriety had kept her away thus far but as Padme stood outside his door now, desperation began to overpower that. It was wrong to invade Anakin's privacy; he'd taken her in and helped her… But she _needed_ to contact Obi-wan. She took a deep breath and pushed the door open.

Padme wasn't sure what she was expecting but a normal bedroom seemed like a bit of a disappointment. A double bed sat against the wall with pale blue sheets, it was made but not neatly, and Padme stepped further inside the room she realised it wasn't so different to her own bedroom only it was more lived in. By the side of the bed, a dark set of drawers sat and she curled her fingers into fists and then uncurled them. She had to do this.

She got to work, searching the room as quickly and efficiently as possible. There was nothing to find in the wardrobe or drawers so Padme moved onto the bedside table. Pulling the drawer out, there was very little inside. A photograph caught her attention and she picked it up. A dark-haired woman with her hair twisted up into a bun smiled joyfully into the camera with a small blonde boy in her arms. _Was this Anakin_? Was that his mother?

She smiled at the picture warmly and traced her fingertips over his little face. He was a cute kid and his mother was beautiful too. Her kind face radiated warmth and gentleness. Padme was careful when placing the picture down again and continuing her search. Just when she was ready to give up, her fingers scraped the bottom of the drawer and the sound perked her ears. Carefully, Padme rapped her knuckles against the wood and was hollow!

A false bottom? _What was he hiding?_

It took Padme a few moments to find the edges of the fake drawer and pull it out, carefully depositing it and its contents onto the bed. Turning back, her eyebrows shot to her hairline. _What?_ A black Glock caught her eye first and shot a cold shudder down her spine. Clovis always carried two of those on him at all times. Without touching it, Padme could see the safety was on but still… _Why_ did Anakin have a gun?

 _Think!_ The more rational part of Padme's brain screamed, _think!_ There were hundreds of reasons he could keep a gun hidden away in his drawer. It was perfectly legal so long as he had a licence. This city was notorious for gang-affiliated crime, maybe Anakin just wanted a little bit of protection?

Beside the gun was a worn brown leather book and Padme's shaking fingers reached for it. Dread began to seep into her stomach as she carefully opened it and flicked through the pages. It was a diary designed to help keep track of schedules and events. Normal enough. But the contents certainly weren't. There were meetings listed with names she didn't recognise and appointments such as _"pick up payment from Windu. 9:00 am before he leaves for work. 120 Cleveland Street._ "

Remembering Anakin's roughed up knuckles, Padme looked back to the day he'd come home looking like that. Sure enough, there was something listed. _"Dooku's payment due. Final visit."_

Final visit? What could that mean? She had a sinking feeling she knew but Padme desperately wanted to give Anakin the benefit of the doubt. That was until she saw it. Her entire body froze and she almost dropped the book.

" _Meeting with Rotta and Clovis. Clovis estate. 5:00 pm."_

"Amidala?" A voice startled Padme out of her thoughts and she whipped around to find Anakin standing in the doorway. Fear shot through her entire body at the sight of him. He had a meeting with Clovis! He worked with them! What if it was about her? Was he only keeping her here until Clovis wanted her back? Padme's survival instincts kicked in and without thinking, her hand reached back for the Glock before turning off the safety and pointing it straight at Anakin.

"You work for _him_?" She spat. "All this time and I thought… What was this? Some sick _game_ of his to let me think I'd gotten out?"

Anakin edged further into the room holding up his hands defensively. "Amidala, _listen to me…_ Put the gun down."

" _Don't_!" She cried. "Don't come any closer."

"I don't work for Clovis." Anakin spoke calmly, "he's just having a meeting with my boss' son. I have to be there."

 _Lies. He's lying_.

"I don't believe you." Her voice trembled and she placed a finger on the trigger something Anakin's keen eyes didn't miss.

"Wait! Hey, Amidala, just wait! Alright? I don't work for Clovis… I work for the _Hutts_!"

If there'd been any colour left in Padme's cheeks it would have drained away then. She knew all about the Hutts… Everyone did. For every bad thing Clovis and his crew had done, the Hutts had done something far worse. They were the cruellest people in the city and their head, their kingpin, had a strict no mercy policy. Clovis had told her all about them in far more detail than she'd known before and he was frightened of them.

If Rush Clovis, the _vilest_ and most evil person she knew was afraid of the Hutts then they were truly terrible people.

And Anakin was one of them.

She'd worked so hard, given _so much_ to take down men like Clovis with Dorme. They'd gathered evidence and given _everything_ to see them destroyed. Dorme was dead so that men like Clovis and Jabba would be gone… Men like Anakin.

All that in mind, Padme aimed the gun and fired.


	4. Chapter 4

The bullet meant for his head went through the wall behind him and then no doubt two more behind it. _Damn it_. Anakin didn't have time to think about the neighbours or his security deposit before Amidala re-aimed the gun, clearly shocked at her miss. _Fuck._ He should have bought a lock for his door. But then again, he hadn't thought she'd ransack his damn room. _What was she looking for?_ There was no time to ponder it further. He had to get that gun out of her hands before he was shot.

It occurred to him suddenly that he had the answer to his question from yesterday.

 _She was capable._

Anakin lunged himself at her, still mindful of her leg and tackled her small frame down to the bed. They collided and landed on the sheets and began to scramble, knocking his false-bottomed drawer to the floor with a loud _bang._ This was risky, if she managed to take a shot at him now he was done for. At this range, he had no hope of survival. With this in mind, he grabbed at Amidala's wrists and forced them down to the bed trying to pry the gun from her cold fingers. She fought him all the way, kicking and writhing beneath him in a way that made keeping his balance difficult.

"Get _off_ me!" Amidala yelled and as badly as Anakin wanted to do exactly that, he couldn't until that gun was safely out of her hands. One of her hands wriggled free from his grasp and landed a hard punch against his left eye, making him grunt. He almost gave into the urge to rear back to recover but didn't. Giving her space now meant a bullet in his head. Still, anger sparked to life inside of him and rivalled the fear to push his actions. If this was _anyone_ else, any client Jabba had sent him after, _that_ would have guaranteed a punch back.

But Anakin wasn't about to sink low enough to hit a woman.

Not so long as he didn't _have to_ at least.

"Stop it! Let the gun go!" He growled, fighting to both grab the weapon and keep it pointed _out_ of his direction. Amidala wasn't making it easy on him, her free hand clawed at his wrist, breaking the skin to gain an advantage but he didn't release her. She took advantage of Anakin's concentration on the gun and snuck a knee up as far as she could before knocking it into his stomach and making him hiss a pained curse. _"Shit!"_ That'd hurt. _A lot_. She'd probably been aiming for his groin too. Anakin shifted his weight and grabbed at the neck of his Glock and growled again, resigning himself to violence. He grabbed at Amidala's throat suddenly, making her jolt, and _squeezed_. He didn't apply _nearly_ enough pressure to hurt or to cause damage but just enough to spook her into letting go of the damned gun.

Her eyes widened and her struggle intensified for a moment until Anakin _squeezed_ at her with just a little more pressure. " _Let it go."_ He hissed. Her free hand reached up to drag her nails across the skin of his cheek below the growing bruise over his eye and he bared his teeth at the sting. _She was certainly resourceful for a woman who'd been sold into sex slavery._ He gripped her throat just a little harder but Anakin wasn't hurting although he _was_ cutting off her air supply just a bit now and as her face reddened, Amidala's grip of the gun loosened enough for him to slip it safely out of her grasp.

The moment he had it Anakin released her throat and sat back on his knees freeing her body of his weight. She spluttered and gasped, clasping at her throat for a moment before eyeing him. He held her gaze and pointed the gun at her making her freeze.

"Just stay still." He barked, panting. That had been close… Too close. If she'd gotten him earlier he would have been dead… It would all have been over just like that. Frustration got the better of him for a second and he glared at the woman laying on his bed. "Listen to me. I'm not going to kill you!"

Part of him wanted to choke her again though, just for the way his wrists stung and his left eye throbbed.

She blinked. "You've killed other people, haven't you? What's the difference now?"

Her words kept him quiet for a few seconds. She wasn't wrong but that didn't mean that Anakin liked hearing it. "… Yeah, I've killed before." He admitted breathlessly. "I work for the Hutts, but I'm not like the men you knew. I'm the bodyguard for Jabba's son, Rotta." Admittedly, he did a little extra on the side every now and again to keep favour but that didn't need to be said. "I'm not like the men you knew." He repeated.

Amidala began to sit up glaring at him all the while. "Why should I believe you?"

Anakin regarded her for a moment before shrugging. "Why shouldn't you? I _saved_ you out there. I'm the reason you didn't bleed out on the streets."

Her face hardened and for a moment Anakin thought she was going to lunge herself at him. "Put the gun down. I don't like it pointing at me like that."

He almost laughed at the absurdity of the comment but whether from mirth or fury he wasn't sure. She had some nerve… Still, if he didn't want them to keep circling each other like this something had to give. _Fine._ He switched the safety on and carefully threw the gun out of the room, away into the safety of the hallway where neither of them had easy access. "There. Better?"

Amidala met his eye and shifted up, onto her knees just like he was and for a second Anakin thought she'd relaxed a little. He was wrong. The next thing he knew she smacked him on the face with her palm and then once more until he shoved her back down to the mattress.

"Stop that!"

"I feel better _now_." She panted.

She really was a piece of work. His cheek stung, his wrists hurt, his eye hurt and there was a goddamn _bullet hole_ in his wall. Not exactly an idea houseguest. He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Enough." He said, repeating it louder when she opened her mouth to talk over him. " _Enough!_ Look, I'm sorry I lied about who I was… Or omitted, whatever. But I did save you and I don't want you to get hurt, alright? I'm _not gonna hurt you._ "

Amidala didn't say anything. She wordlessly climbed off the bed and limped out of the room. Being pushed down on the bed had probably hurt her injured leg. He began to feel bad about that until remembering he'd thrown the gun in the hallway. Panic roared to life inside of him but a moment passed and Amidala didn't appear wielding it. And then another and another. That's when he heard the door to her bedroom – the _guest_ bedroom slamming shut.

She hadn't come back to shoot him after all.

 _Thank fuck._

Anakin stood up and examined his wrists. The scratches weren't deep but they hurt a lot… Not worth taking any medication for but he wanted something to numb it. On his way to the kitchen, he paused in the bathroom to check the mirror. He was already developing a nasty black eye and the cuts on his cheek were bleeding a little. He groaned and wandered into the kitchen before opening the alcohol cupboard and pulling out a bottle of whisky. Not the best quality but it was good and the burn in his throat would distract him from the damage Amidala had inflicted.

He gave a long sigh and poured the drink into a small glass, watching the amber liquid fill the glass beyond what most people would consider a normal measurement. Anakin brought to his lips and took a swig, enjoying the warmth it spread in his mouth and throat. Falling back into one of the kitchen chairs he looked up at the ceiling before taking another swig.

 _God damn it._

* * *

Padme lay on the bed in the bedroom for an hour and thirty minutes before deciding to emerge. She was reeling from everything Anakin had said. He was _one of them_. Part of the crew who ran around after Jabba the Hutt and ruined lives in his name. She just… She couldn't reconcile it in her mind. The Anakin she knew, the one who'd saved her life, taken care of her and shown her kindness for the first time in a very long time just _couldn't_ be that kind of man.

But he _was._ He'd told her so himself.

" _Yeah, I've killed before."_ She could still hear his voice saying those terrible words. It made her feel sick. Padme thought of the men she knew who worked for Clovis, men in Anakin's position who leered and did terrible things to the girls around her without care. Not that any of them had been allowed to touch her, that was the _perk_ of being Clovis' pet but she had _seen_ what those men did. The way they hurt girls and used them like they were nothing…

Was Anakin like that? If he worked for the Hutts he had to have the same access as those men did. If he did… She wished she'd had the foresight to grab the gun on her way out and keep it with her. From the sounds of things, Anakin would have a much easier time getting another than she would.

Padme turned the silver knob of her door slowly and slipped out as quietly as she could. The apartment existed entirely on one floor so it was easy to find Anakin sitting in the living room quietly staring into a half-drank glass of whisky. The bottle was halfway empty too. He looked up at her as she entered the room but was smart enough not to smile. This wasn't over yet. Being a small apartment there was nowhere else to sit in the room than beside him and her leg ached too much to keep standing so Padme lowered herself onto the sofa.

"Do you want a drink?" He asked quietly.

Padme hadn't tried whisky before but right now a drink sounded like the best thing in the world. She nodded and watched him stand up to retrieve an extra glass from the kitchen. When he returned, Anakin grabbed the bottle and poured her a generous portion, handing it over expressionlessly. She took it from him without thanks and brought the liquid to her lips. It tasted like fire sliding down her throat, her eyes watered and despite her best efforts, Padme coughed.

Anakin chuckled quietly and eased himself back down beside her. "First time?" He threw back his own drink as easily as if was water and something about it irked Padme. She didn't like to be bested.

"Yeah." She muttered and allowed him to pour her another drink.

"You'll get used to it. I threw up the first time I tried this."

This drew Padme's eyes away from her refilled drink and to Anakin's and despite herself, she felt her lips quirk upwards into a smile. "You did?"

"Yeah. After just one glass too. My friends still tease me about it when I get to see them."

She looked back down to the drink suspiciously. "I don't blame you. Or them."

Anakin laughed and took another drink. After a few seconds of hesitation, Padme joined him. It went down a little smoother this time but the burn still brought water to her eyes… This stuff was _strong_! How was he taking it so easily?

"How's your throat?" He asked and Padme tensed. Without meaning to her eyes flicked between his bruised eye, scratched cheek and clawed wrists where angry red scratches marred his skin, there was no doubt that he was in pain.

"How's your face?" She dodged. Truthfully, her throat had hurt a little at first but it faded fast. She didn't like to admit it but Anakin had obviously held back earlier. Clovis had lifted his hands to her much worse for a lot less more than once.

" _I'm not gonna hurt you."_

"Killing me." He answered bluntly which even after everything drew a splutter of laughter from between her lips. She looked back up into Anakin's eyes and set her mouth into a thin line. She'd come out here to get answers and that was what she was going to get. Anakin, however, beat her to it.

"I'm surprised you're still here after… Everything."

It was honest. Any sane human being would have left this apartment and ran for the hills by now… If Anakin worked for Jabba and was even _remotely_ connected to Clovis in any way, it wasn't safe for her to be around him. It would be all too easy to slip up and give the wrong person a hint as to her whereabouts. It wasn't a risk Padme should even _consider_ taking. But on the other hand, it wasn't safe out there. She had no doubt that Clovis' goons were still looking for her.

"I might have left if I'd be safe out there." She took another drink, gulping the fiery liquid down greedily this time.

It wasn't difficult to feel Anakin's eyes on her. "Do you really think Clovis has men still out there? It's been a little over two weeks since you got out."

"He won't stop until he finds me." She whispered and reached for the bottle.

Anakin was quiet for a minute before speaking. "That's a lot of effort to go to just to find one escaped brothel girl."

He was right, of course, and it made Padme uncomfortable. He was already suspicious about her she could sense it from the start but he couldn't know the truth. Especially now she knew who he really was. It was too dangerous. Padme had to finish what she and Dorme had started. She lifted her newly refilled glass and brought it to her lips. This conversation needed a change of subject before things got too close to home.

"Yeah… But you don't know how good I was." Padme smirked into her glass, enjoying the thrill that came with Anakin's eyes darkening at her words. Really, she shouldn't have said that. It was immature and made light of her terrible situation but her tactic worked and he cleared his throat quietly, shifting uncomfortably beside her. No more questions about Clovis' desperation to get her back. _Thank god._ Now it was her turn to ask the questions. "So you work for the Hutts?"

Beside her, he sighed. "Yeah. Jabba's son mainly but they're one and the same."

"Your book said you have a meeting with Clovis coming up." Even saying his name out loud made her shudder. For a few seconds, Padme had to squeeze her eyes closed to banish the memory of his voice and touch.

"Rotta – Jabba's son – has a meeting with him on Jabba's behalf. They own a club together." Anakin explained and sipped his whisky. "I won't see him."

Padme ran her finger around the rim of her glass. She hated how much it all made sense… It made her feel stupid for her earlier reaction. Still, she wasn't one hundred per cent sure about his story. There was one way though, one _sure fire way_ to prove what he said. She knew enough about these gangs and their rules to know they had brands. Her fingers subconsciously stroked the _C_ tattooed onto her skin. Everyone was branded to someone… If what Anakin said was true…

"Let me see it." She whispered.

Seconds ticked by and after two minutes Padme was about to question his hesitation when suddenly Anakin all but threw his body off the sofa and began to undo the buttons of his crisp white shirt. It came away little by little, revealing more and more of his broad chest. He was tanned which surprised her given that the city was notoriously cloudy and drizzly. But what surprised her more was the way her cheeks felt warm and her eyes struggled to pull themselves away from the well-sculpted muscles he uncovered.

 _He wasn't like Clovis or the others._ _He was beautiful._

Finally, the shirt parted fully and Anakin turned his back. When she saw it, Padme knew there was no denying he'd been telling the truth now. A large, ornate cross took up the centre of his spine, full of beautiful lines and patterns and in the very middle of it, a curved _H_ stood proudly, boasting his pledge of loyalty to any who saw it. He worked for the Hutts. There was no denying it. Especially because Padme had seen Clovis' mark of loyalty and it didn't look like that. It was a circle with the same _C_ she carried.

Without thinking, she stood up and traced the _H_ with the tips of her fingers as if it may have come away beneath her touch. It didn't. Anakin flinched at her touch at first before settling into it. His skin was smooth and toned, free other inkings surprisingly. Most of the men she'd seen around Clovis' estate were covered in them, biographies on all that they'd accomplished for their organisation. Padme's touch slipped lower to the dip of his spine and she felt him shudder.

The marking was still healing; she could see the swelling and redness… Either he was still new at this or had managed to dodge an official welcoming from Jabba until now. She leaned toward the latter. "You only just earned it?"

He gave a small shrug. "Depends who you ask."

Padme was intrigued but didn't probe further. It was only when her hand made its trail back upwards that she saw the small curved writing that followed the right point of the cross. _Don't look back._ That didn't sound like something a kingpin would say or want his followers to wear. "Don't look back?" She whispered and felt Anakin stiffen.

"My mom used to say that. I asked him to add it."

She thought of the woman in the picture, the smiling kindly woman. Anakin spoke about her in the past tense and it made Padme's heart hurt. "Used to say?"

"She's dead." He didn't look at her when he spoke.

"I'm sorry." She whispered and meant it.

She wasn't sure how long it took, but her fingers danced across every inch of the tattoo and Anakin let her. When her curiosity was sated she stepped around his body to meet his gaze. "I don't understand… You work for the Hutts… You've seen and done terrible things, Anakin. You probably see girls like me all the time around there. Why did you help me?" Before all this, she'd just thought he was a good person, someone who wanted to help others. But now Padme didn't know what to think. Was there more to it?

"You needed help and I was there. I saw those men with the guns. I wasn't just going to leave you there. I work for monsters, Amidala, but I'm not one of them." Anakin was loud and passionate and Padme couldn't look away from his eyes. There was no sign of dishonesty. It was strange but… She believed him. But that didn't mean she wasn't _angry_ at him for being part of it, for _helping_ people like the ones who'd kept her.

"Do you… Do you know what happened to me in that place?" She whispered. "Do you know how girls like me are kept, Anakin? How they _treat us._ "

She watched his throat bob as he swallowed. "Yes."

For some reason, his admission hurt. "And do you know what they _do_ to us?"

At that, Anakin looked away guiltily. "I do."

Now Padme's eyes stung but she didn't know why. "Did you…" Her voice lost its strength. "Have you ever…" She couldn't say it. The words hurt too badly for her mouth to shape. And, if she was honest with herself, she wasn't sure if she wanted to know the answer.

"Have I ever used a girl like you in the Hutt's place?" He asked for her. " _No._ "

The strangest sense of relief burst to life inside of Padme's body but she wondered _why_? He was just another gangster, another one of the long line of people who hurt others in the name of a big boss. Why did it matter to her who and what he did? He hadn't hurt her… Not really. Still, whatever the reason, Padme was _glad._ That was until Anakin spoke again.

"I've seen the men do it – even the damned guards get a turn sometimes… But there's nothing I can do about it. It's not my place to ask questions, Amidala…"

 _It's not my place…_

The faces of the girls she'd been roomed with in the Clovis estate came to life in her mind suddenly, sullen, hollow faces full of despair. Girls who'd once had lives, hopes and dreams… But that'd all been stripped away from them along with their identities. Clovis and his men had taken them apart piece by _piece_ until there was nothing left. She'd seen so many girls turn to the drugs floating around the estate, hard narcotics to take their minds far away from the abuse. It was heartbreaking.

It wasn't _their_ place to be there.

Everything, all her anger at Clovis, at his men, at the circumstances and situation, boiled over and exploded inside of Padme. _It was unfair and unjust_ what was happening to girls in those estates and _everyone_ seemed to think it _wasn't their place_ to do anything about it! She gave an angry cry and shoved both her hands into Anakin's chest harshly; catching him off guard and knocking him back down onto the grey sofa.

"Yes, it is! It _is_ your place to say something, Anakin!" Padme followed him as he fell back, climbing onto his lap and striking him again just like before, completely caught up in her fury. This time her slap left an angry red palm imprint on his cheek and he hissed at the pain.

"Hey!" He yelled. "What the _hell_ are you doing?" His arms attempted to block her blow but Padme smacked him again before Anakin caught her wrists in his palms. She settled for a moment, panting, before tearing her wrists out of his firm grasp.

"If you don't do something about the people you see suffering," Padme reached for his belt and began to undo it. "You're _just_ as guilty as their oppressors." She worked his belt and jeans open in a handful of seconds and dipped her hand inside.

"Ah… Amidala," Anakin grunted, watching her with wide, shocked eyes. " _Hey_ , what do you think you're –"

His words died in his throat as Padme's hand wrapped around his rapidly hardening length and began to stroke him. It didn't take long before his hips bucked upwards to meet her touch and she watched his face throughout. She could feel him throb in her palm and for the first time while touching a man, she felt _powerful._

After a few moments, Anakin's hand wrapped around her wrist and squeezed tightly, holding her in place and stilling her movements. " _Amidala…_ " His voice was hoarse and strained with restraint. "This isn't right."

He wanted her… His blue eyes were almost black with desire and Padme felt the hardness of him in her hand. She'd hardly done anything at all and yet he seemed like a man on the brink of desperation. _He wanted her._ "What?" She whispered. "Do you want me to stop?" Maybe she _should_ stop… Maybe this was a bad idea and would only end up hurting her in the end, but Padme didn't care. She felt real and strong and for the first time since she could remember, Padme felt _in control_. "Do you want this?"

Anakin watched her for a long moment, eyes quizzical even as his chest heaved with want. Finally, he turned her question back on her. "Do _you_?"

It occurred to her a moment later that in his own way, Anakin was asking her permission… For _consent_. The concept threw her off so much that it dampened the fire inside of her somewhat. Clovis hadn't ever asked her if she wanted him. Not once. No one did. No one ever _cared._

Suddenly, Padme was torn between kissing him and smacking him again.

She settled for kissing him, grabbing his cheek in her palm and letting her tongue dance with his. Anakin wrapped his arms around her waist and held her close. His grip was firm but not tight, loose enough that she could break away whenever she wanted. Padme liked that. She wasn't sure who started pulling at the other's clothes first, but in almost no time at all, the borrowed boxers she wore had been slid down her legs and dropped to the floor where his pants joined them.

Suddenly, she couldn't stand the feeling of Anakin's hands on her skin… The touch felt possessive somehow… _Controlling_. So she grabbed his wrists in her hands and forced them behind his head, holding him still. His elbows belt upwards and stuck out on either side of his head. Part of Padme realised how silly he looked but the dark fog of lust that'd taken control of her mind and actions didn't care. Nothing mattered more than following this through.

She was drunk on the power of domination. Padme was in charge, fully in control and Anakin accepted it without question. He reacted to her movements, never seeking to take the power away from her or asking for more than she gave. And something about it, despite how wrong this was, how she might regret it in the morning, acted as a balm to her wounded soul. For the first time in two years, Padme was _choosing_.

She'd chosen this man and as she angled her hips to sink down onto Anakin's hard erection, she felt a sharp tingle of thrill at the knowledge that _she_ was taking _him_.

Without thinking, Padme threw back her head and gasped at the feeling of him inside her. Whenever Clovis has used her it'd hurt. _God,_ how it had _hurt._ But now, aroused and wanting, she whimpered at the surprise of pleasure the intimacy brought. " _Oh god…_ "

She followed her instincts and rocked her hips, moving faster as she found a rhythm that made stars explode behind her eyes. Behind Anakin's head where she held his wrists down tightly, she couldn't help but squeeze just a little harder, making him hiss. The sound worsened the ache between her legs and encouraged her to grind her hips against him harder.

" _Fuck, Amidala,_ " Anakin groaned, "You… Oh, fuck…"

Beneath her, he began to lose himself in the moment too. Suddenly, he began to thrust his hips upwards to meet her busy hips, forcing himself _deeper_ inside of her and making them both cry out with the pleasure. Padme had never felt anything like this before… She hadn't imaged it was _possible_ to feel this good. Her fingers abandoned their post holding his wrists down and wandered into his golden hair, tugging and squeezing lightly.

This only further encouraged Anakin and his hips moved faster under her, _harder,_ but somehow he still had the sense of mind to respect Padme's wishes and kept his wrists planted behind his neck. For the first time in a very long time, Padme felt free. Every slap of their hips together felt like _retribution_. Anakin worked for the men who ran the criminal underground where she'd been a captive, where she'd been raped and used and treated like she was _less_ than human, but now she had turned it all around. She took _him_ , made him say _her_ name in the heat of it all.

Anakin bucked into her harder and Padme met him stride for stride chasing her pleasure and lost in the moment. He cursed and deep within her she felt him swell harder for a moment before a powerful climax took hold of his body beneath her making him pant and curse as his pleasure peaked. It lasted for a few moments and when he softened inside her, Padme lifted her hips to free her body of him.

Between her legs ached with frustration. She'd been _so close_. The blissful peak Anakin had felt had just been a few moments away. Just as she resigned herself to the dissatisfaction, Anakin pushed her down against the couch with a hard shove, making her gasp. Her back hit the sofa cushions with a soft bounce and Padme pushed herself up on her forearms.

"What do you think you're _doing_?" She demanded.

Anakin graced her with a small, warm smile and laid a gentle kiss against her knee. The small action sent the strangest shudders running through her body. "You didn't finish." He murmured and began a fiery trail of kisses along the length of her leg, working his way higher and higher until his hot mouth reached the apex between her legs.

" _Ugh_!" She cried when he began to work his tongue against her in earnest, hands holding her thighs in a vice grip to keep her still. This was… Padme's eyes squeezed shut as the air fled her lungs. She'd never done this before… It took every ounce of willpower she had not to scream and writhe beneath him. She'd been so worked up before that it only took a few firm strokes of Anakin's tongue against her clit to send a powerful orgasm shaking through her body.

"Oh god, Anakin!" Padme wailed, "Oh – oh _god… Ah!"_

And moments afterwards it was over.

Anakin sat back on his knees and let his heated gaze travel over her. Padme noticed with a shiver that his mouth and chin were glistening from pleasuring her and felt another spark of arousal flicker between her legs. This wasn't like her at all… Normally the sex act was revolting to her. Every time Clovis had sent for her she'd felt nothing but dread and disgust. But now, with Anakin, she realised she wouldn't mind doing that all over again and again… And maybe even again after that.

The man above her climbed her body and took Padme's lips with his own and she could taste herself in the kiss. It only added to the small fire she felt coiling in her belly. After a few moments, Anakin's kiss travelled to her neck and downwards over her collarbone but it wasn't kisses of lust. He was tender and sweet and she wasn't sure how to respond. When Clovis had spent himself he'd leave the room or send her away usually.

Still panting, Anakin buried his head in the crook of Padme's neck and rested part of his weight against her body. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath but the panic never came, the sensation of being trapped didn't creep through her limbs until they froze. No… She actually… It was _nice._

Which was why, for the first time for as long as she could recall, Padme wrapped her arms around the man above her and relaxed into the warm sense of contentment he'd brought her.


	5. Chapter 5

Consciousness came to Padme slowly. It took several minutes to blink herself awake and when she did, she almost gasped. This wasn't her bedroom. Panic began to claw at her throat until a soft grunt from behind her and a tickle of warm breath against her neck brought her mind back to reality. _Oh, that was right…_ She wasn't in _her_ bedroom. She was in Anakin's. After their little tryst on the couch last night they'd wordlessly moved into his room where passion had gotten the better of them again and they'd had each other twice more before falling asleep.

That explained the slight aching between her legs.

Still, this was by far the best she had felt in the morning in quite some time. Her leg didn't hurt and she was comfortable, warm and to her complete surprise, Padme found that she felt _safe._ She felt Anakin's arm tighten its hold around her and bit down a smile. Who would have thought that the Hutt's bodyguard could be so gentle?

She didn't want to get up and leave the contentment of the bedroom just yet so Padme carefully rolled over in Anakin's arms and let her eyes roam over his sleeping face. They were close enough that she could feel his breath fan over her skin and strangely, she found she didn't mind it. It wasn't the slight haze of the alcohol or the heat of the moment; she'd been right about him. He was beautiful. His golden hair looked like spun sunlight in the dimly lit room. Without thinking about it, she reached up to run her fingers through it gently and smiled when he sighed in his sleep.

What would it have been like if they'd met under different circumstances, she wondered? If he wasn't part of the Hutts and she'd been free all along? Could something have happened between them? Would they have even liked each other if they hadn't been thrown together by dire circumstances?

She supposed they'd never know.

After a little while longer, Padme carefully untangled her limbs from his and climbed out of the bed. When she left the room, she headed straight for the shower and turned the hot water on. The warm spray wet her skin and washed away any remaining sleepiness she still felt leaving her awake and refreshed. Her mind wandered to everything that had to be done, mentally listing everything and planning how to accomplish what she and Dorme had set out to do.

When she emerged from the bathroom thirty minutes later, Padme felt sharp and full of purpose. For the first time since all of this had begun, she felt full of determination to see it through. It was like being reborn. But despite all of that, a darker, sadder realisation had come to her too. Her place with Clovis was done along with the connections she'd had with the girls there… But Anakin had his own connections; he was part of the underworld too.

And that meant he was her ticket to completing her mission.

Wrapped in only a soft white towel, Padme walked into the kitchen just as she heard the front door of the apartment open and shut again. Anakin appeared a moment later, dressed lazily in a tight-fitting white shirt and worn blue jeans with his usual boots. Their eyes met and she felt a warm spark that made her breath hitch. The events of the previous night flashed before her mind's eye and her eyes fell to the floor to avoid his intense gaze.

"Did you go out?" She asked to fill the quiet. He'd been fast asleep when she went to shower; she hadn't been in there _that_ long had she?

"I just had to run to an ATM real quick." He mumbled and reached into his back pocket for his wallet. Padme watched him curiously as he unfolded the black leather and pulled out a thick bundle of dollar bills. The money was folded in half but it wasn't difficult to see that they added up to a rather substantial value. _What did he need all that for_? Anakin stepped toward her suddenly and reached back with his free hand to scratch awkwardly at the back of his neck as he held out the money to her. "Here. It's for you."

Padme blinked, stunned for a moment before a flash of red hot indignation flared through her. _What the hell was this?_ "What do you mean it's for me?" She snapped. "Is this – is this for last night?" Was that what he truly thought of her? That she was just some brothel whore whose _services_ he had to pay for? She wanted to slap him again or maybe give him another black eye!

Immediately, Anakin's face turned red and his eyes widened in a way she might have found comical if she wasn't so furious. " _What_? No! Shit – fuck, no! No, that's not what this…" He rubbed his free hand over his face. "Amidala, I would _never…_ It's just, I thought after everything you might not want to stay here anymore. There's two thousand dollars here. Should be plenty to stay in a motel somewhere for a while until you think it's safe…"

She listened as he stumbled through his words and slowly felt the fire of her fury burn out. He'd gone about it all wrong but his offering was actually quite sweet... Once again, Padme was surprised at the _freedom_ Anakin offered her. He was giving her a chance to get out if she was uncomfortable and he wasn't skimping out on it either. _Two_ _thousand dollars_ was a lot of money to just hand over to someone you were sure you'd never see again.

But Padme couldn't leave. She needed Anakin and his connections which meant she had to stay with him for just a little longer. Still, there were things she needed… Clothes, underwear… A phone… And what other way of getting a hold of money was she going to have?

She nodded which seemed to soothe the fear in Anakin's eyes and reached out to take the money from his hand. "I understand. Thank you."

The silence that descended upon them was more than slightly awkward and Padme couldn't stand to look into his eyes. He was being so kind to her again, showing her a side to him that he'd no doubt have to keep hidden deep inside of him with his line of work. She hated the way it made her heart race inside her chest because it wasn't right. She was going to use him to see her mission through and then…? If they both made it out alive, Padme had no idea what would happen. They'd almost certainly never see each other again.

"Well, I'm gonna go shower and get ready for work," Anakin said softly and she nodded without looking at him.

Padme sat on the couch for a long while after Anakin left. The money in her hand felt wrong… She knew how Anakin got his payments, she'd seen men like him in Clovis' place countless times before and she wanted no part in spending it. But on the other hand, she _needed_ a phone to contact Obi-wan. She looked down at the crisp bills folded neatly in her palm and thinned her lips. Anakin had told her she could use it to leave if she wanted. For the first time in _so long,_ someone had offered Padme freedom. It stole her breath away when she thought about it.

But, just like it'd been all this time, this newly offered freedom was still out of her reach. There was an opportunity here; she could see it, one that could bring an end to the Hutts and Clovis faction permanently. In order to do it though, she had to stay here with Anakin. He was her connection to this world, one she'd lose forever if she left now. With a long sigh, Padme pulled herself up and off of the couch to go get dressed.

* * *

Padme's first stop had been to a well-known women's clothing store to pick up some things to wear. A woman wearing male clothes far too big for her was far more likely to draw attention than a woman wearing normal clothes. Still, she was careful in her selections. Blue jeans, ankle boots and a mixture of shirts and blouses were casual and easy to overlook. And, if she was honest with herself, she felt so much better wearing normal clothes again, like a real person… Like the person she used to be.

She glanced down at the bright pink plastic bag carrying her purchases and nodded to herself. Now she had underwear and alternate clothing options, she wouldn't have to depend on Anakin's wardrobe anymore, something he'd no doubt feel relieved at. The foreign clicking that followed her every step from the thick heel at the end of her boots brought an unfamiliar smile to Padme's face. She'd used to love wearing heels with every outfit. Suddenly, Amidala felt a thousand miles away.

A small non-corporately branded coffee shop came into view and Padme stepped inside, cringing at the shrill ringing of the bell by the door which brought unnecessary eyes her way as she stepped up to the counter. She needed to stay under the radar not draw attention to herself. Clovis' goons could be anywhere and wearing normal clothes wasn't the most foolproof disguise. Still, after a few tense seconds of staring at the black menu board behind the counter pretending to weigh up the options, Padme relaxed. Nobody moved toward her and nothing changed… She was safe.

The brunette behind the counter smiled as she ordered a sweetened coffee and set to work making the beverage without comment. When the white porcelain mug was handed to her, Padme carefully took it and its matching saucer in her hands and headed upstairs. To her surprise, it was empty. The ten or so customers the store had seemed to have congregated downstairs which made life far easier for her. Setting the coffee down, she reached into the pink bag for her _other_ purchase.

A small outdated cell phone. It was non-contracted and she'd put one hundred dollars of phone credit into it at the store. It was far more difficult to tap into and trace one of these than the more modern phone designs. And this way, the device was easily disposable. Paying cash at the store meant there was no paper trail of her or her purchase. It was safe. She carefully worked the device free of its box and flipped it open as it turned itself on. She hadn't seen a phone like this since she was a little girl…

Sola had had one and Padme had been deadly jealous.

 _What she'd give to go back to those days_ …

Without thinking, her thumb worked to dial in the number she'd memorised years ago. It'd never left her mind, Padme hadn't let it, repeating it ten times every night before letting the exhaustion of the day take her. Her hands were steady as she brought the phone to her ear and waited. It rung once and then twice and then three times before someone answered. A familiar voice part of her had worried she would never hear again.

"Hello." It wasn't a question, but Padme hadn't expected it to be. Only people like her, undercover agents working for the FBI had access to this line and they only called when things were dire.

"Obi-wan." She breathed and felt her eyes beginning to sting. It'd been _so long_ since she'd spoken to him and a sudden wave of despair washed over her. _Stop it!_ She chided herself. _This isn't the time._ "I – I'm sorry I went dark for so long… There was no way to contact you before now."

"Padme!" He sounded surprised, "I'm happy to hear from you! I must be honest and say I suspected the worst when you didn't check in after the meeting. Rabe made it back and gave me the intel on what happened. Your cover is blown with Clovis then?"

Just the mention of his name and what'd happened made Padme's stomach clench. "Yes. I can't go back there now." She hated to admit it to her superior like this… She'd failed their mission and let everyone down but Obi-wan had to know the truth if they were going to proceed and find an alternate route.

He was quiet for several moments whilst Padme wallowed in her shame. "This _is_ unfortunate." She could almost _see_ him stroking his beard thoughtfully by his desk. "You and Dorme were making such wonderful progress. Regardless, I'm glad you got out of there in one piece. Where are you? I'll send a car immediately."

She was tempted. _Oh_ how badly Padme was tempted to reveal her location and be pulled out of all this but she couldn't. She was in too deep and she would be damned if she didn't see this through to the end. Before she was out of this, she needed to see justice done and Clovis suffer its consequences.

"No! No, not yet, sir." She picked up the cooling coffee and pretended to take a sip as an employee appeared by the doorway to pick up used dishes. He was gone as quickly as he came but Padme held off speaking for a moment to be sure. "…Yes, my position within Clovis' estate isn't viable anymore but I think I have another in. Not to Clovis but to the rival family, the Hutts. I believe this can be used to our advantage to see the objectives through."

The surprise was evident in Obi-wan's voice when he spoke. "You have an in with the _Hutts?_ How is that possible?"

"Well…" She hesitated. How much detail could she go into? What she'd done last night by sleeping with Anakin was bad, it hadn't been for the mission, it'd been for herself and that was unacceptable. It was things like that that got agents compromised. She had to be more careful from now on. "The details don't matter right now."

"Padme, listen to me, you are one of my best agents and I have the utmost faith in your abilities and judgement but the Hutts are a whole other ballpark. We have a whole other section of agents dedicated to them, you know that." He said.

"I do. But my connection only knows me as Amidala and he has no idea who I really am. Obi-wan I really think this could work. I know to be careful, you can trust me."

At other end of the line, she heard him heave a great sigh. "Tell me your plan."

"You know Dorme and I were working on gathering as much evidence against Clovis as possible. We were able to amass some very damning information before my cover was blown. Information that should Clovis' rival, Jabba, find out it could potentially start a war between the two families."

The best way to take out the men like Jabba and Clovis was to let them take each other out. Everything else could be cleaned up by the FBI if they acted quickly enough and then it would _finally_ be over for good. Padme had information that if Jabba saw, Clovis would have a target on his back that couldn't be removed… Anakin could be the way she passed the information along. It was a good plan and she believed it could work. She just needed a little time to see it through. "Please, Obi-wan... I've never let you down before. I don't intend to start now."

Silence followed Padme's desperate plea. She watched the seconds tick by on the small white clock hung on the back wall of the shop and barely dared to breathe as her superior mulled over the plan. Three minutes passed. One hundred and eighty seconds until at last, he spoke. "I don't like gambling with your safety like this, Padme. You've been through enough already… But if you feel this is the best course of action, then I'll leave you to it under one condition."

Hope dashed through her chest and she clutched harder at the phone. "Yes, of course, what is it?"

"You check in with me once a week with detailed updates. I want to be fully informed of everything that happens. And don't put yourself into any unnecessary danger."

Padme smiled sadly down at her cold coffee. Following this through meant nothing but danger and Obi-wan knew that. But it was worth it if it meant bringing an end to the gangs that haunted this city and had ruined countless lives once and for all. "I understand."

She heard Obi-wan's breath catch, "Padme… I wanted to say… I'm very sorry about Dorme. She was a good agent and you two made great partners to each other."

Despite blinking to ward them off, tears filled Padme's eyes at the mention of her deceased partner. Dorme may not have been her sister by blood but they'd been sisters by choice. They loved each other and Dorme had cried, screamed and even shaken Padme in bids to convince her not to take the undercover job with Clovis. Part of her wished she'd listened.

"Thank you, Obi-wan. I appreciate that."

"Goodbye, Padme. Check in soon"

* * *

It was dangerous to linger out in the streets much longer but Padme still chose the longest route back to Anakin's apartment building anyway. As she walked, she pulled her new cream woollen coat tighter against her body against the slight chill in the air. The few extra minutes her longer walk provided gave her more time to be prepared for what awaited her back in the apartment. She'd meant what she said earlier. Sleeping with Anakin had been a mistake and she couldn't repeat it.

Sleeping with him regularly would certainly make earning his trust easier; she'd learned that with Clovis. After a few fucks she'd become his closest confidant. But it didn't work that way for her. She was already in danger from being with him last night. It wasn't easy to admit, but Padme was attracted to him and despite her best attempts, part of her had become fond of the Hutt bodyguard. She just couldn't risk falling for him and blurring the lines between Amidala and Padme any further.

She'd been in character for so long that sometimes it was difficult to tell where Amidala ended and where Padme began anymore. Sometimes the two versions of herself felt so conjoined that they'd become one and the same. But she had to be strong. When she'd taken the undercover role, she'd made a promise to Obi-wan that she could do this no matter what she'd have to endure. If only she'd known… The reality of pretending to be one of those abducted girls, of taking a fake name and letting herself be used over and over again by Clovis had taken something from her soul that Padme wasn't sure she would ever get back.

What had happened with Anakin had been a lashing out of the pain and the _need_ to take some semblance of control back from the hands of her oppressor. Of course, Anakin wasn't Clovis but his thin connection to the man who'd hurt her and raped her countless times had been enough to make it feel like a victory. It was the actions of Amidala, not Padme… But then, later that night, when they'd slept together again in his bed, it _had_ been Padme and that worried her. In the moment, he'd been gentle and giving and it'd felt like a balm to the wounds in her heart… Like her sunshine after a seemingly endless rainstorm.

She wanted him but she could never have him and that was why things had to be professional. Padme had to be objective if she was going to succeed.

Thus far, she was failing to do that and a better agent would have admitted to Obi-wan that they weren't alright and it was time to be pulled out. That she needed time away from active duty to recover from her trauma. But she couldn't. Dorme had lost her life because Padme took on this mission and they were partners. She was going to see this through in Dorme's name to ensure Clovis was taken down for good and if Jabba the Hutt and his network fell too… All the better.

Two blocks away from Anakin's apartment building, Padme snapped the little flip phone in half and threw it into the trash.

* * *

"What happened to your eye?" Rotta's slurred question made Anakin want to groan. Today felt never-ending. He was supposed to be the bodyguard of Jabba's heir Rotta, the twenty-six-year-old drunken waste of space, not his damned driver. But more often than not these days his role was to accompany Rotta to whatever seedy nightclub or strip club that took his fancy and watch him devour alcohol and drugs like it was his last day on earth.

Today, he'd waited, fending off the advances of bored dancers for two hours while Jabba's disappointing son enjoyed a _private session_ with a dancer named Crystal. Even now it made Anakin roll his eyes. Jabba was a sick, _evil_ son of a bitch but at least he was smart about it. Rotta was just as sick and evil as his father but lacked the brains he'd been born with in Anakin's opinion. The Hutt heir wasn't interested in running his father's criminal empire one day, no, boozing and partying were all that concerned him much to Jabba's fury.

"Got in a fight," Anakin muttered. He flicked his gaze upwards to the rearview mirror to check his appearance and winced. Amidala got him good yesterday… That wasn't going away for a few weeks at least.

" _Heh._ " The man-child gurgled. "I knew you could be fun. C'mon, why don't we go over to that new club Coruscant? That Clovis prick owns it with my dad… I'll tell you something, Skywalker, one of the girls he put in there has the _tightest –_ "

"You have a meeting scheduled with some of your father's business associates, remember?" Anakin interrupted Rotta, grimacing. He didn't need to hear what the overweight bastard had to say to feel disgusted. The moment Rush Clovis' name came into the picture his stomach churned. "So you need to sober up. There's water back there, chug it and don't puke in my car."

Rotta chuckled to himself and slumped in his seat. "Ahh, Anakin. What would I do without you telling me what to do?"

When they – _finally –_ made it back to the Hutt's vast estate, Bib Fortuna, Jabba's slimy assistant was hovering by the entrance hall. The man took a long look at Rotta before _whacking_ his hand against the Hutt's eldest child's cheek. Anakin watched him fall with a depressing _thud_ and wrapped a hand around his wrist behind his back. Served the idiot right.

" _How dare you_?" Bib hissed at the boy, "You would show your face in your father's house in this state? When you _know_ the importance of this meeting?" Rotta struggled to his feet and glowered at Bib whose own face was etched with disgust. "Your father would be ashamed to see you right now. You're a disgrace to your family name!" He rounded on Anakin suddenly, "take him to his rooms and see that he's sobered up. You're free to leave after that."

"Right." He nodded. Whatever it took to get the hell out of here before Jabba's _friends_ came over. He grabbed Rotta by the back of his trashy suit jacket and half-dragged him toward the grand red-carpeted staircase which led to the family section of the estate. That's where Jabba kept his young wife and their brood at least. Didn't seem like much of a family to Anakin's eyes… He'd pushed the boy up two stairs when Bib's voice caught his attention.

"Oh, and Anakin? Jabba asks that you accompany our future leader here to Rush Clovis' masquerade birthday ball next week. He feels extra protection is necessary inside the Clovis' estate with all the disguises… You understand I'm sure?"

It was lucky he wasn't facing Bib as he spoke. Anakin's face fell into a sour grimace at the order. A party with the people Jabba and Rotta spent their time with was bad enough but a party in the Clovis estate in the disgusting bastard's honour? It was enough to make him sick. _What would Amidala think?_ He dismissed the thought as quickly as it came. Amidala was probably long gone by now…

"Of course." He murmured and continued pushing Rotta up the stairs.

Once they reached the vast living quarters of the Hutt heir, Anakin dragged the idiot into the bathroom, turned on the shower at its coldest setting and pushed him in, smirking at his startled cry. "There. Wash up and be ready for your father's meeting."

In approximately four minutes, Anakin all but threw himself into his car with a long, tired sigh. He shoved his keys into the ignition but didn't start the engine right away, instead sinking back in his seat and pinching the bridge of his nose. After a few seconds, his thoughts turned to Amidala. He'd given her the money so she could leave if that was what she wanted… After last night, he didn't want her to feel trapped with him. But the prospect of coming home to an empty apartment was an oddly… _Sad_ one. It was funny, a couple of weeks ago, Amidala being gone would have been something he'd be happy about. But now… He had to admit, he was dreading going home.

The truth of it was that he liked her… Fuck it, the real truth of it was that he more than liked her. He was so beyond attracted to her it was ridiculous and last night, getting to see her and to _be_ with her… It was amazing. It'd felt like coming home. Amidala had been a goddess in his eyes. She was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. Like some kind of an angel…

But that angel was here to taunt him with a life Anakin could never have. He was in this life until the end and if Amidala was smart she would be far away from this city where people like Rush Clovis could never find her. And if she stayed… Well, she knew what he was and who he worked for and she'd made it clear how low her opinion of him was for it.

Part of him wanted to get out, it'd always been there but it'd been easier to ignore until now. Despite his best efforts, Amidala awoke something in Anakin… Something that wanted a normal life somewhere safely away from Jabba and Clovis and the terrible things they did… And… It wasn't easy to admit, but he might want it with her.

It was stupid. Amidala was gone and rightly so.

* * *

When Anakin walked into his apartment thirty minutes later he almost collapsed with the surprise of finding Amidala sitting by the breakfast bar in the kitchen. Against all logic and reasoning, she was still here… Sipping what smelled like coffee in his kitchen with a magazine as if she belonged there. He couldn't believe it. Behind him, he closed and locked the apartment door and walked toward where the enigmatic woman was sitting. "You're still here? I thought you'd be gone."

It was only when he was close enough to lean his forearms on the bar opposite her that Anakin noticed she was wearing one of his hoodies over a pair of slim fitting blue jeans. She'd been shopping then… Probably for the best. There was only so many pairs of his boxers to go around after all. She looked up from the magazine she'd been reading and raised a curious eyebrow. _Fuck_ , why did that of all things make him want to kiss her?

"Do you wish I'd gone?" She asked quietly.

Fuck no.

"No, I… No, it's fine." The sweet aroma of her coffee filled the room and made his stomach rumble in envy. He'd been craving a good coffee all day, Rotta had kept him running around the city from bar to bar to goddamn club. His eyes flicked up to meet Amidala's and she met his gaze with a small smile.

"I hope you don't mind I stole a little coffee from your stash…"

Anakin couldn't tear his eyes away from her lips suddenly… It would be so easy to lean the few inches across the bar that separated them and take them with his own. And he wanted to, _bad._ Swallowing, he shook his head and forced a smile and dragged his gaze back up to her beautiful brown eyes. "That's alright… We've been sharing everything else, haven't we?"

Amidala's eyes lowered down to the hoodie she was wearing and laughed quietly. "That's certainly true…" Suddenly, a playful glint lit up her eyes, sending unwelcome heat through Anakin's body. "If you get sick of me taking advantage of your hospitality, I'm sure I can find some way to make it up to you…"

It took everything in Anakin's power not to groan and round the breakfast bar to kiss her then and there. His pants were certainly a little bit tighter from her flirtatious words. _Get a grip, Skywalker_ … He felt himself smirk a little as his mind worked overtime to prepare a response. "I think you already did."

The husky words brought a flush of colour into her pretty cheeks and that brought a real smile to Anakin's face. The memories of last night were still fresh in his mind. He could still feel her kiss and hear her moaning his name… Sure, getting punched and smacked around before it hadn't been the greatest but everything else…

"Are you hungry?" He asked, trying to shake off the lust that warmed his blood. "I was thinking of ordering pizza."

Amidala's eyes widened slightly and Anakin raised an eyebrow. "I… This is so silly but I haven't had pizza in years." Her face flushed, embarrassed and Anakin was speechless, unable to do anything but gawk at her for a few moments. _Years_? Fuck… It made sense, it wasn't very likely Clovis splashed out on take out for the girls in his captivity, but still…

"Alright, that's it." He rounded the breakfast bar and wrapped his fingers around her small wrist, hoisting her to her feet. "Screw ordering it, I'm taking you to get real pizza." There was a little Italian place about ten minutes from the apartment in the car. It had the best pizza in the city and that's what Amidala deserved after years without it. From behind him, Anakin could hear her laughing joyfully as he half-dragged her out of the apartment and toward the elevator.

* * *

After their meal, Amidala sat back in her seat with a content sigh, lifting the white papery napkin to her lips in the most lady-like gesture Anakin had ever seen. He'd enjoyed his own food, sure, but watching her rediscover pizza made it the best meal of his life. Glancing around the restaurant brought a small amused smile to his face. It was Friday night and most patrons were smartly dressed, no doubt on dates and trying to impress each other…But Anakin was still wearing his work suit and Amidala wore her new jeans and his hoodie.

And she still looked more beautiful than every other woman in the place.

The candlelight brought an ethereal glow to the small restaurant making everything feel intimate and quiet. Anakin had only ever been here to pick up take-out before but he could see why it was so popular for couples. If this had been a date it would have been a good spot. Amidala brought her glass of wine to her lips, disguising a smile Anakin caught the end of, but it made him smile regardless.

"What?" He chuckled and reached for his water. He'd kill for a beer but it felt safer to drive here rather than risk Amidala being spotted walking down the street.

She put down the glass and shrugged her shoulders. "Nothing… It's just nice to feel like normal people doing normal things for a change."

Before he could answer, the smiley waitress appeared and placed down a small brown leather book with the bill tucked neatly inside and to his surprise, Amidala reached for it first. When Anakin quirked an eyebrow at her, she laughed, producing a sleek black wallet from inside the purse she'd slung over her shoulder. "What? I recently came into some money, you know."

Anakin couldn't help the bark of laughter that burst from his lips. "You're a piece of work."

The smile she gave him in response was enough to make his heart skip a beat or two.

He was fucked.

 ** _A/N: Thank you so much for all of the reviews on the last chapter! I'm very sorry I didn't get around to answering you all, the first week back to uni has been a bit of a shock to the sytem. I'll be better this time around, I promise. Let me know what you thought!_**


	6. Chapter 6

Amidala wanted something.

Anakin had woken up alone this morning where she'd been by his side when they went to bed. Nothing had happened, of course, but it'd felt so nice to hold her and see the peacefulness that took over her often worried face while she slept. There was no worry on her face this morning, though, only a controlled mask of normality. It was her eyes that gave her away, however, they were flicking around the room nervously while her fingers twisted and fiddled with the sleeve of his shirt she'd worn to bed. _All that shopping yesterday and she still wore his clothes to bed._

He wanted to ask what was on her mind but if Anakin had learned anything these last few years it was that patience was the key to these things. People would ask for what they wanted eventually. So, instead of asking her, he walked toward the kettle and murmured a quiet good morning. "Do you want some coffee?" Anakin asked as he filled the kettle enough for two mugs and glanced over his shoulder. Amidala was looking at him with unspoken words simmering in her eyes. Whatever was on her mind, she was worried about bringing it up.

Anakin may not know very much about this woman, but he knew how to read body language.

"Yes, please." She answered distantly and worse, _politely_. They weren't polite with each other. Not ever, all that was pretty much out of the window once punches were thrown and throats were grabbed. Still, Anakin gave her space and didn't comment on it. He busied himself pouring the hot water into the mugs and making the coffee manually – he'd been meaning to pick up one of those fancy machines to do all this for him – and waited.

Amidala said nothing, so when the beverage was finished Anakin handed her the blue mug and watched her inhale the warm scent the steam carried up into the room. "Thank you." She smiled.

He gave a lazy shrug. "I wouldn't thank me. It's just store bought crap… I used to go out and buy the real quality stuff but…" Trailing off, Anakin turned his back on Amidala under the guise of fetching milk from the fridge.

"But what?" She asked curiously.

"I don't have the time anymore." He admitted quietly and poured the milk into his mug. In this old life before working with the Hutts, Anakin had had time to be his own person and cultivate his own interests and hobbies and follow his personal desires… That life had been vastly different from the one he led now. Sometimes he missed it, more often lately, but it was easy to lock those memories away and carry on. Now he was Anakin the bodyguard, Rotta's keeper… Nothing more.

"Oh." Amidala said, "that's right. Your _job_."

The way she said it hurt. The distaste in her voice was clear and it made Anakin's shoulder's sag tiredly. How many comments like that had he faced over the years? The scornful looks and snide remarks about his profession… People liked to make it clear they abhorred and condemned what he did and who he associated himself with. But he could take that so long as they didn't look at him with fear in their eyes, as if he was the monster that'd haunted their childhood dreams… Those looks made him feel less than human. At the very least the people who hated him still saw him as a man.

They shared their coffee in silence after that and when Anakin finished his and pulled open the dishwasher Amidala cleared her throat. "Anakin, can I ask you something?"

There it was. He'd been right then, she _did_ want something. "Sure." He said and shut the dishwasher before leaning back against it. Still, for all his smugness in being able to read people, nothing could have prepared Anakin for what came out of her mouth.

"How did you get involved with the Hutts?"

His stomach dropped and his wits fled. Nothing, no easy lie sprung to mind and he was left gaping at her silently. He couldn't tell her the true reason, of course, so for the moment, he was left with nothing to say.

"I'm sorry," she shook her head, "I don't mean to pry; I know it's none of my business… It's just…" She paused for a moment, seemingly searching for the correct words to express her feelings, "you're different, Anakin. You're not like any of the men I knew in Clovis' place."

Stunned, all he could mutter was, "The Hutts aren't the Clovis'." At last, his panicked brain relaxed somewhat and words became easier to form. "They're more powerful, richer and are more high society than the Clovis' are." _They were also crueller and more depraved than Rush Clovis and his goons could ever be._

Amidala seemed to digest this for a moment and took a long sip of her coffee. "…So that means, if they wanted to, the Hutts could take out the Clovis faction?"

The question was such a curveball that Anakin had no time to prepare. It smacked him as hard as a punch to the gut in no small part due to the casual conversational tone she'd used to ask.

It took him a moment, but he recovered enough to answer her question. "Yes." What was her angle here? She had to have one; nobody would start this line of questioning if there wasn't some kind of endgame. "If this is all hypothetical, then yes, if Jabba wanted to, he could take out Clovis and his followers. But he has no reason to. Sure, officially, they're rivals but there's been peace between the families for generations… A Clovis girl married one of the Hutts around twenty years ago too, which only solidified the truce."

Amidala's eyes narrowed and at last, she showed Anakin her hand.

"What if I told you I knew something that would destroy that peace between them?"

"Something big enough that would make Jabba want to lash out?" Anakin closed his eyes and imagined the chaos that would follow such a thing… It would be a _massacre_ ending with Rush Clovis' head on a proverbial spike… Or a real one. Jabba could be dramatic at times. Crossing his arms over his chest, he met Amidala's eyes and took her bait. "If you really had information with that kind of power, I'd listen, of course."

"I do." She laced her fingers together on the countertop and nodded. "And I'll tell you on one condition."

Anakin's eyes narrowed. _She was very calculating for a former sex slave…_ "Alright, what is it?"

"I want you to share the information with Jabba in a way that'll rile him up enough to want to seek retribution over Clovis."

Suddenly, it all came together in Anakin's mind. Everything made sense. "You're looking for revenge, aren't you?" He asked knowingly, "for what happened to your sister?"

"Yes," Amidala answered immediately, without hesitation. "After what Rush Clovis and his men did to Dorme and to me, we deserve it. All the girls in there do."

Anakin let his eyes wander over every inch of the woman across the breakfast bar that he could see. She'd endured terrible things at the hand of Rush Clovis and yet here she was, standing strong and full of purpose for this mission of hers. Clovis had tried to break her but instead of falling apart as others may have, Amidala had held herself together and become stronger for it. She was a weapon turned against her former keeper and the idiot had no idea what was coming for him.

In his eyes, she was nothing short of amazing.

He lent his forearms on the countertop and nodded. Truthfully, Anakin relished the prospect of a gang war between the two families and that desire combined with the respect and admiration he felt for Amidala made his answer clear. The decision was the easiest he'd made in a long time. Reaching across the table, he caressed her smooth cheek with his fingers for a moment and watched as she leaned into the touch. "If this information of yours is as powerful as you think it is then I'll make sure Jabba hears it… I _promise_ you."

Amidala turned her head to press her lips to his palm softly and Anakin shuddered. He could almost _see_ the weight lifting from her shoulder at his agreement. "Thank you, Anakin."

After a moment, he pulled back his hand and waited. When she said nothing, Anakin frowned. "Well? What's this information of yours?"

She lowered her gaze away from his. "I can't really tell you." The surprise of that made his eyes widen. _What?_ His mouth opened and shut again for a moment, trying to form words of surprise and annoyance before her eyes met his again and silenced him. "I have to _show_ you and that's going to make things more complicated. You know the club Clovis owns with Jabba? Well, I have evidence that Clovis' accountant – who is his nephew – has been forging financial documentation to cover the fact that that they've been stealing tens of thousands of dollars from the business for years." Anakin's throat felt dry but Amidala wasn't finished. "And that's not all, Jabba's oldest son, Tolas found out about the fraud and Clovis had him murdered to ensure his secret never got out… They staged it as a suicide, but it wasn't. They killed that boy."

It was certainly lucky that he was already leaning on the counter because suddenly Anakin's legs were weak. He could remember Tolas Hutt. He'd been everything Rotta wasn't. Smart, suave, sober, well-liked and had always executed extreme discretion in his personal and business affairs. He'd been Jabba's pride and joy. The only child with his first wife who'd died in childbirth with the boy. There was still a white marble altar in the woman's name in the family section of the estate depicting her as a saint. When Tolas had put a bullet in his brain after his girlfriend left him for another man, Jabba had been mad with grief. He'd had the girl and her new lover tracked down and buried alive together.

If it came out now that Rush Clovis had truly been behind Tolas' death…

Anakin's heart pounded in his chest and he began to sweat. "I… Wo… Words aren't proof, Amidala. I need more. What evidence do you have?"

She nodded immediately. "I kept a journal throughout my time in Clovis' whorehouse." Her voice became distant and cold. "Sometimes he liked to talk to me… After he was _done_ … I think part of him wanted to impress me with his power. Between that and overhearing the men talking when they came down drunk to celebrate, I learned a great deal of Clovis' secrets. I wrote everything I heard into the journal."

He hated the images her words painted in his head. Frowning, Anakin shook his head, "that's still just words… I need something concrete to take to Jabba."

"I know that. But I know where Clovis keeps the file which details what happened with Tolas and I know bank account numbers to prove everything I've told you."

Anakin's jaw dropped. He was Rotta's right-hand man and spent almost every waking moment with the idiot and even _he_ didn't have access to that kind of information. "How _the fuck_ did you get bank details?"

"That's not important." She waved him off, "what matters is that I have them… And I have the combination of Clovis' personal safe which is where Tolas' file is kept."

For several moments all Anakin could do was stare at her, totally and completely flabbergasted. _Who are you, Amidala? Really?_

Though that was the burning question on his mind, he pushed it away in favour of another. "Where is this journal of yours?" He needed to look through it as soon as possible if he was going to pass its contents on to Jabba.

For the first time since their conversation began, Anakin saw Amidala's face fall and the fierce determination that had lit up her eyes dull slightly. "Back in the room Clovis gave to me. When Dorme came to collect it, everything happened so quickly and I was _so scared_ … I just ran. There was no time to retrieve it. I was _so stupid._ "

"Hey…" Anakin pushed himself off the counter and made his way around it, instinctively pulling the wilting woman into his arms. "It wasn't stupid. Shit was going down – your sister was just killed and you were running for your life. You were lucky to make it out of there with the clothes on your back!" He defended her from her own harsh words and pressed his lips to the crown of her head.

Amidala pulled back just enough to look up at him. "But I left without the evidence we need to crush Clovis once and for all!" She took in a deep shaking breath. "But I'll figure out a way to get it back… Then I'll uphold my end of the deal. I just need a little time first to make a plan."

"Wait," something dawned on him suddenly, "I think I know a way I can help you with that. It's Clovis' birthday next week. He's hosting a huge party and Jabba wants me to watch over Rotta to ensure doesn't make a fool out of himself. I could get you in."

"Oh, that's perfect!" She began to smile for a second before it fell again, "but everyone in Clovis' estate knows what I look like… They'll recognise me."

"No, it's a masquerade ball. Everyone will be wearing disguises and masks, don't worry. And I know someone who can get you something to wear in time for it." He sighed. It was going to come at a price but this would be Amidala's safest chance to recover her journal without getting caught. It would be worth it.

"Who?" She asked curiously.

"Her name is Miraj Scintel… I may have to give into her advances and take her on that date she's been angling for but at least we'll be able to get you in."

Amidala raised a curious eyebrow at him for that and Anakin rolled his eyes pulling away from her. "A date?" She asked.

He waved a hand to brush her off. "I've been shaking her off for a while but if I want something from her, I'm gonna have to give her what _she_ wants first."

"You lead a hard life." Amidala giggled and stood up to place her own mug into the dishwasher alongside his.

"Listen," Anakin began, a twinge of nervousness twisting in his stomach. "Doing this is going to be risky so if I agree to help you, I have a condition of my own." There was something about her that'd been nagging at him from the start and it hadn't faded with the time they spent together, if anything, it worsened into a deep desperation that nothing but the true answer would sate.

Amidala stood a little straighter and crossed her arms over her chest defensively. "What is it?"

There were a great many things Anakin wanted to know about her but most of all the most basic piece of her addictive puzzle. He hadn't even realised it'd been a secret until recently when the realisation had dawned on him suddenly and quietly while she'd laughed with him over dinner. "What's your real name? I know Amidala is a front either Clovis gave you or you chose to hide behind."

Clearly, she hadn't been expecting his question. Her big brown eyes widened with surprise and he heard her subtle gasp even from where he stood. So he'd been right, Amidala _wasn't_ her real name then. Anakin had had his suspicions from the start but to have it confirmed felt like a punch to the gut. After everything, he wanted to _know_ her… Not who she was pretending to be. She was quiet for several minutes, either shocked or simply weighing up her options and after a while of it, he was beginning to suspect she wouldn't tell him anything or worse, offer another deflective name but then her lips parted.

"I… My name is Padme."

* * *

That night, Anakin got home from his work later than any other night since Padme had been staying with him. She'd already cooked dinner, eaten, cleared up and put the leftovers in the fridge for him and was getting ready for bed in her own room when she heard him come in. Opening her door, she waited by the framing as he made his way toward the bathroom. "You're back late." She said.

He grunted tiredly in agreement. "Rotta wasn't ready to go home after the bar shut…Managed to convince him to take the girls home to party so I wouldn't be out all night with them."

Even in the dim lighting, she could see how haggard and exhausted he looked. Jabba's son had really put him through the wringer tonight by the look of things. Even his body seemed to sag beneath his own weight from fatigue. "I left you dinner in the fridge."

He nodded. "Thanks… I'm not hungry though."

Concerned, Padme reached out to touch his arm. "Anakin, are you alright?" Maybe something bad had happened that he wasn't telling her about, something he needed to get off his chest so it wouldn't haunt his sleep. He was going out of his way to help her and Padme wanted to repay him… If that meant listening to the grubby details of his job then so be it. It was the least she could do.

But Anakin clearly had other thoughts on his mind. He pulled his arm away from her touch and started toward the bathroom. "I'm fine. Just tired…And you don't have to pretend to have pity for me. I know how much you hate what I do." He muttered.

 _But that doesn't mean that I hate you…_ The thought fled her mind as quickly as it came but it still left Padme shaken.

"I'm gonna grab a shower and head to bed." He looked over his shoulder at her and lingered for a moment, "goodnight…Padme."

He said her name slowly as if he was still getting used to saying it and if she was honest with herself, it was more than a little jarring to hear it from his lips. It'd been _so long_ since anyone had called her by her true name other than Obi-wan or Dorme in their infrequent phone calls. She'd expected to feel slightly violated upon hearing it from someone who belonged to the underworld she'd escaped from but to her surprise, Padme didn't feel uncomfortable at all.

She still wasn't fully sure that revealing her name to Anakin hadn't been a grave error in judgement. Something in the moment had whispered to her that if she'd used another fake name he would have known and she couldn't risk him retracting his offer to help her. But still, up until that moment protecting her true name and identity had been so sacred and important that revealing it felt like a large part of her armour had been stripped away. In this apartment, with Anakin, Amidala was gone and that only left Padme to face whatever was to come… That was frightening.

From inside the bathroom, she could hear Anakin turn the water on and pressed her lips together. If she was smart she would turn around and shut the door behind her. Whatever was bothering the Hutt bodyguard had nothing to do with her and she should leave well enough alone. But Padme found that she didn't _want_ to. She wanted to make Anakin feel better regardless of the fact that he was helping her with her plans.

That was what people who were fond of each other did, wasn't it? But she shouldn't. Just the other day she'd thought this through and vowed to keep things professional between her and Anakin for the sake of her mission. Was she really going to throw that promise away? And for what? If Padme followed Anakin inside the bathroom, she knew there was only one outcome… And the thought of it brought heat roaring to life between her legs. She wanted him.

Padme took a step toward the bathroom and then stopped.

It was wrong. Obi-wan would have her badge if he found out about this – _especially_ if he knew how she felt about Anakin! Padme would have to be _crazy_ to go in there. It could destroy _everything_ … Her mission, her career, her _sanity…_ But that night they'd shared together was the first happy – truly _happy_ – night she'd had in a very long time. Before she'd taken the undercover position even and something told her it was the same for Anakin too.

Without prompting, Padme's feet led her to the bathroom door where she hesitated again. These feelings Anakin brought out in her were a liability. Stepping into the bathroom risked compromising herself and took away any certainty she had about her plans going forward… Was all that really worth following what she wanted to do?

" _You know, Padme, I was engaged to another man when I met your father."_ Her mother's words from many years ago came to mind suddenly, " _it was a different time. My father had unofficially arranged it with his father to strengthen their business connections. But when I met Ruwee… I knew there was nothing in the world that could stop me from being with that man. Nothing. It was a gamble, my dear, the trouble my father raised was hell, but do you know what? No matter the trouble or pressure you may feel, my love, always follow your heart. It knows what's best after all."_

For years, Padme had pushed her mother's words out of her mind, putting her career before any potential love matches. There'd always been time for that later, she'd thought. But in the game she was playing, the game she was bringing Anakin into, there might not _be_ any more time once the storm burst to life. Setting Jabba after Clovis only meant blood would flow and she wasn't sure she'd be wholly immune to the chaos.

Her palm slowly wrapped itself around the door handle.

If she died tomorrow, Padme didn't want to have any more regrets than she already did.

 _Follow your heart._

She pushed the door open and stepped inside.

Once it shut behind her with a small _click_ , Padme slipped out of her pyjamas and headed toward the shower. Everything was fogged up from the hot water and the glass had been clouded by steam. It made the tattoo on Anakin's back appear blurred and indistinct… Like a giant black smudge across his skin. But when she came closer to the glass the details began to stand out once again, especially the curled writing of his mother's words.

 _Don't look back_.

Padme thought again of the smiling woman from the photograph and the little boy she'd held in her arms and closed her eyes. She knew what it was like to lose a parent – both of them actually. They were both pained souls, two people who'd lost more than most could fathom. Really, when she thought about it, it was no wonder they were drawn to each other, broken souls always found each other after all. With a slight nod to herself, she brought up her wrist and gave a soft knock against the glass door.

Anakin turned in surprise and she watched his eyes widen as they took in her lack of clothes. "Padme…?" He began but trailed off with a thick swallow.

"Can I join you?" She smiled softly. In all her hesitation and pondering, she hadn't really given any thought to Anakin's reaction and what his thoughts might be. After all, there weren't many men in the world who would want a woman who'd been held in captivity for years and used like a possession. But Anakin _had_ wanted her the other night… And he was kind to her and he wanted to help her. That had to mean something…

 _Would he still want you if he knew who you really are?_

The thought hurt. It was a little frightening too… Anakin worked amongst criminals and committed crimes in their name… If he knew she was a cop he would _hate_ her. She existed to destroy his world and everyone in it. And when this was all over, she'd be expected to hand him over to her superiors for arrest along with all the other information she'd gathered.

Could she really do that? Let him be arrested for helping her and taking her in? Or could she turn a blind eye and forget everything.

Truthfully, Padme didn't know.

Wordlessly, Anakin slid the shower door open to allow her to step inside and she pushed her thoughts out of her mind. His darkening blue eyes trailed over every inch of Padme's body and inspired desire deep in her stomach.

So, she let him kiss her and kissed him back, wrapping her arms around his neck and sighed contently when his large hands wandered her body and pulled her closer.

This was all that mattered for now.

* * *

Later, they lounged in bed and Padme hummed tiredly as Anakin's fingers stroked through her hair. It was surprisingly nice to lay nude together in the afterglow… She slung her leg over his groin carefully and danced her slim fingers over his chest feeling the gentle thumping of his heart. Maybe it was the pleasant sleepiness talking but she felt like she could stay in this moment forever. Part of Padme wanted to lock the doors to keep the rest of the world out… This little apartment was their hideaway from the realities of life and right now, she really didn't want any disruptions.

"You know," Anakin started quietly, drawing Padme's attention up to his face, "I don't like doing what I do either."

Surprise made her jolt. Where had that come from? He'd never talked about liking or disliking any aspect of his work with the Hutts to her before… This was a rare moment of openness from Anakin. She had to be careful. Padme didn't want to scare it away and frighten him into not allowing himself another. "You don't?" She whispered.

His eyes met hers and her breath caught in her throat. Conflict and pain shone clearly in the beautiful blue depths in a way she'd never noticed before. "Then why do it? You could get out you know, people have done it before – plenty of them!" She watched his jaw tighten and he tore his gaze away from hers. "I mean it, Anakin. You're a good person, I can see that… You don't have to do this."

"Yes, I do." He muttered bitterly. "I don't have a choice." Before she could respond, Padme felt his lips against the crown of her head firmly, lingering for a moment before pulling away. "You should get some sleep, Padme. Goodnight."

She felt him lean over to switch off the lamp and then the room was cast into darkness but sleep was the furthest thing from Padme's mind. He had no choice? What did that even mean? Did the Hutts have something over him that compelled him to work for them? Or maybe they had something Anakin wanted? There was something about him, his work and his past that didn't make any sense to her no matter how many times she thought it over. Good people didn't work for gangsters. Gangsters destroyed good people or turned them into more of the same. Anakin wasn't like that… But he wasn't like Clovis or his men either.

It just _didn't_ make any sense. How could someone from the underground world and worked for the Hutts and had no doubt done terrible things on their orders be so full of conflict, pain and brokenness? It was one big contradiction and it hurt her mind and her heart.

The worst part was, Padme wasn't sure which one it hurt worse.


	7. Chapter 7

Upstarts. Social climbers. _New money._

Those were some of the names people often used to describe the Clovis family. It wasn't a secret that Rush Clovis and his clan were the least liked family in the city. From what Anakin had heard in whispers and from Rotta, Clovis tried too hard to walk in the shoes of the high society and _worse_ , he wasn't true blue blood, he was adopted into the Clovis family and thus didn't belong here. But, despite all of that, everyone in the city seemed to be in agreement on one thing. Rush Clovis knew how to throw one hell of a party. His galas were sin brought to life. Pride, envy, wrath, sloth, greed, gluttony and most of all, _lust._

A Clovis soiree brought opulence and indulgence out of every one of its attendants and how could it not? They were surrounded by finery of every kind one could possibly imagine. Invitations were well sought after and rarely found unless invited. Everyone who was _anyone_ in this town had to be seen here but Clovis was vein and surrounded himself only with the most elite members of society. After all, exclusivity was inspired appetites more than any meal.

Rush Clovis' thirty-fifth birthday ball was no exception. Once his carefully selected guests stepped over the threshold of the vast estate the rules of reality fell away. It was to be a night of debauchery of every conceivable way.

The Clovis estate had been draped in regal cloth of black and red and the dark contrast whispered of thrills to come, promising experiences only a king of the underworld could provide. The black caught the glimmering light of the enormous crystal chandeliers which hung high above the heads of the guests, casting miniature rainbows across the room. Even the hired help wore deep purple masks as they glided through the hallways bearing silver trays of entrees and the finest champagnes. What brought the evening's exquisite look together, however, were the guests. Everyone had dressed in their finest suits and dresses and adorned themselves with sparkling jewellery worth more than most people would earn in a lifetime. The room was filled with expensive satins and silks which rustled and slid around the bodies of the wearers as they made their way through the mansion.

Anakin was graced with a few red-lipped smiles as he entered the fray alone. Behind the carefully designed slits, made up eyes glittered in the purposely dim lighting at him in silent invitation but he paid them no mind save for a passing, polite smile. He wasn't here to flirt.

Parties like these were the usual outlet for the infamously buttoned-up high society Rush Clovis was desperate to join to let loose a little. Tonight, the masks brought the ability – an excuse – to give into one's desires and tastes without worrying about identities and rumours. The heightened mixture of intoxication and anonymity created an air of freedom which didn't tend to exist for these people outside of the lavish party walls. It would be very easy to take advantage of that. His face was hidden beneath his own black mask, concealing his identity as the Hutt bodyguard and making it all too simple to lose himself in the temptations of the night. No one knew who he was or who he worked for. If he'd wanted it, the night could be his…

But he didn't want it. Tonight held a purpose – one more important than keeping an eye on Rotta.

Against the wall, an old-fashioned ornate grandfather clock stood proudly displaying the time. It was almost midnight. Beneath his mask, Anakin frowned. Padme was supposed to have checked in with him by now. That was the agreement they'd made before leaving the apartment together. Whether she was successful at retrieving the journal or not, she was to check in with him to confirm her safety. But she was twenty-five minutes late… And counting.

He needed to find her. Anakin turned on his heel sharply to make his way out of the main party hall and walked straight into Rotta.

"Anakin!" The younger man slurred, "I've been looking all over for ya!" The slimy Hutt heir threw his arm over Anakin's shoulders friendlily, "listen, I have found _the_ hottest twins… And they're desperate to meet a working man like you."

It took everything in Anakin's power to not roll his eyes. "Maybe later, Rotta."

But the younger Hutt's grip around him tightened warningly. "Stop being such a damned killjoy! I want _both_ of us to have a little fun tonight, Skywalker. Be grateful! I've got you in there with some sweet blonde little pieces of ass! _Enjoy it!"_

Sighing frustratedly, Anakin muttered, "I don't like blondes… Fuck it, alright, Rotta show me these twins."

The sooner he indulged whatever trouble the Hutt heir wanted to get himself into, the sooner he could pull away and look for Padme. He needed to get her the hell out of here as soon as possible…

* * *

Nausea and unease swept through Padme as she passed over the threshold of her old room in Clovis' estate. Beneath the layers of the beautiful red silk ruffled dress Anakin had gotten for her, she began to sweat. Everything was the same as when she'd left. Two single beds on either side with a small wooden dresser between them… Even the dank blue walls hadn't changed. There were no windows, no clocks or lamps which had always made knowing whether it was day or night almost impossible.

Padme shut her eyes tight as unwanted memories reared up.

 _No, no, no… Focus._

Swallowing, she made her way across the small room and fell to her knees by the dresser. The journal hadn't simply been kept in the drawer, no, it would have been found and taken on her first day here. The girls weren't allowed to have personal items. The dresser was merely for hygiene and perfume products to ensure the scent of sex didn't stick. After pulling out the drawer as far as it would go, Padme reached behind it and down, resting her chin against the surface as her entire arm snuck inside.

She felt nothing but wood.

Panic made her gasp. Had it been discovered by someone since she'd escaped? If it had then Clovis knew everything she'd found out and would be prepared for Jabba, effectively ruining her plans… But no… After a few moments the tips of her fingers grazed against smooth leather and she smiled breathlessly. Gripping the very edge of the journal, Padme carefully pulled it free of the tape she'd used to store it away and retracted her arm.

The moment it was in her hands the door swung open behind her. Padme all but leapt to her feet and tucked the small notebook into the garter portion of her black stocking before smoothing down the ruffles of her dress.

" _Oh!_ " A surprised cry came from whoever had entered, "are you lost? Guests aren't supposed to be here." The sound of the voice made Padme's body move without permission, turning rapidly to face the figure in the doorway. When she saw her, it took everything in her power not to gasp.

" _Ahsoka_ …" The name flew passed her lips before she could stop it. Horror and compassion overwhelmed her senses for a moment as she took in the form of the seventeen-year-old before her. Ahsoka had been so sweet and sure when Padme lived here, always looking on the bright side and planning an escape. She'd laughed so much with the other girls, always _so_ positive that something had to give, that good would win out and they'd be free. That was until Clovis' brother had won the right to _'break her in'_ after one of their poker nights. Padme had cradled the girl in her arms for hours afterwards as she'd shook from the shock and sobs that'd wracked through her body. After that, she couldn't recall hearing Ahsoka laugh or speak of freedom ever again.

Seeing Ahsoka again now, the girl was a shadow of who she'd been before. She was skin and bone and carried worrying dark circles beneath her eyes… The overdone powered blush was the only colour on her once beautiful dark skin and worse were the telltale needle marks across her arms. Clovis was _drugging_ his girls now apparently… It was horrifying, seeing the girl dressed in the skimpy lingerie and heels she herself had been forced to wear while here. Ahsoka was a _child_!

Ahsoka's eyes narrowed for a moment before realisation dawned across her sullen face. "… _Amidala?_ Is it you? Is it _really_ you?"

"Yes." Tears pricked at her eyes, "it's me, I'm here."

The surprise that'd held Ahsoka's face faded to cold fear in an instant. "Are you _crazy_? What're you doing back here? If Clovis found out you were here – "

Padme crossed the few steps of distance between them and placed a trembling hand on Ahsoka's shoulder, wincing at the prominent bones beneath her papery skin. "I know. Don't worry, I'll be leaving soon. There was something I left behind that I needed."

Ahsoka nodded distantly. "Clovis has been saying things since you left… That you were a spy the whole time… Not really one of us."

Padme dragged her gaze across the small room that'd served as her prison for years and felt her throat tighten. So _that_ was what Clovis was saying about her? Or his guards were at least… She may be a cop who'd been placed here on a mission but Padme had still slept in the same rooms as those girls, nursed them through heroin comedowns, been raped and used alongside them… She'd shared in their suffering regardless of who she was. _That_ made her one of them and Padme would be damned if she let Clovis take that away too.

"Don't listen to anything they tell you, alright?" She reached up to cup Ahsoka's cheek gently, "no matter what, I was one of you. Okay? Don't let them mess with your head."

The young girl nodded tearily, "Oh, Amidala, I'm happy you got out. I think out of all of us you had it worst… You were Clovis' favourite."

" _You're the best girl I have… Ugh, you feel so good… And you're mine. All mine."_

Suddenly, she could hear his voice panting in her ear; feel his hand on her breast and his hips thrusting between her legs as vividly as though it were happening right now. It made Padme woozy and angry both at once. Taking a deep breath, she forced the memories away and focused on Ahsoka's face. After a few moments, the bad feelings faded to the back of her mind allowing her to concentrate.

"Ahsoka, tell me," Padme took the other girl's hands into her own; "did he question you after I left?"

"Yes," she nodded after a second or two, "I didn't know anything which only made him madder. None of us have _ever_ seen us so angry before… God, Amidala, I don't know what he would have done to you if you'd been caught."

Padme's throat tightened. If she'd been caught by his goons that day then she certainly wouldn't be here today, that was for sure… And her end wouldn't have been a pleasant one… Or a quick one for that matter. She had no doubt that Clovis would have made her suffer.

"Did he take his anger out on you and the others?" She almost didn't want to know the answer but not knowing would only make it worse. Ahsoka's gaze fell to the floor and her lip trembled, telling Padme everything she needed to know. Guilt and rage burst to life in her chest. _How dare he punish them for what I did_? Shaking her head, she sniffled, "I _promise_ you that someday soon, Ahsoka, I'm going to make sure Clovis pays for what he's done to us."

At that, the younger girl met Padme's eyes again and squeezed her hands. "Amidala _no_! Just get what you left behind and get out! Please, leave the city and be safe… You don't need to worry about the rest of us."

It was on the tip of her tongue to ask Ahsoka to come with her, to escape this mansion in the back of Anakin's car and never look back but the more practical side of her mind kept those thoughts silent. As _desperately_ as she wanted to help Ahsoka get to safety, this wasn't the time. Sneaking her out dressed the way she was would be almost impossible, her clear youth and condition would almost certainly draw attention and get them caught. And of course, asking Anakin to help her was already too much but to take in _another_ girl? He was already taking too big of a risk… But once Padme had completed her mission, _then_ she could help Ahsoka and the other girls. She had to focus on the job for now.

 _I'll get them all out, I swear it._

"Alright," she nodded, heartbroken despite her promise, "I'll go now."

For the first time in quite a long time, Ahsoka actually smiled, the tension visibly lifting from her weak shoulders. Her too thin arms wrapped themselves around Padme's frame in a tight hug that brought her no comfort. "Be safe, Amidala."

She wanted to repeat the sentiment but didn't trust her voice not to crack as tears filled her eyes. Leaving Ahsoka behind in this hell was the hardest thing she was ever going to have to do but it was for the best… What she was doing tonight would ensure Clovis was crushed forever. But that didn't make it any easier. With one last smile at the girl, Padme turned on her heel and left the room, blinking to rid her eyes of the tears.

Thankfully, she didn't run into any more of the girls while making her way out of the brothel wing of the estate. It was difficult enough to see Ahsoka and she wasn't sure her emotional state could handle seeing anyone else. Honestly, Padme had been _sure_ the entire wing would be deserted tonight… Whenever Clovis threw events like these, the girls were dressed up and dragged upstairs to entertain some of his more _special_ guests.

Just like her old space, Clovis' private quarters were empty. His bedroom here was small with only a bed and ensuite bathroom built in, used only for when he wanted to take advantage of one of the brothel girls. Unfortunately, more often than not, it'd been _her_ whohis guards had escorted over. The bedroom he shared upstairs with his wife was far grander… She'd been forced to see the inside of that too on more than one occasion. Shuddering, she turned the corner to find the office and pushed the grey metallic door open without any resistance.

It was just like she remembered and Padme quickly hurried toward the colossal black safe in the corner. However, the second she came close her determination was snuffed out like a flame under ice water, leaving her staring at the safe helplessly.

When she'd been a prisoner here, Clovis' safe had been an old, outdated six-figure lock with a relatively easy to crack password – his wife's birthday of all things – but that had been replaced by a small blue screen with no numbers or buttons of any kind. _A fingerprint scanner_. _No, no, no!_

Just as her helplessness became devastation at the new set back, footsteps outside caught Padme's attention and before she could react, a voice sent cold shivers down her spine.

"Well, well, what do we have here?"

Without thinking, she spun around, devastation deepening as she came face to face with Rush Clovis himself.

Like all the other guests, he was dressed immaculately in a no doubt designer suit and he smiled in an attempt to appear charming but it only made Padme feel revolted. Fighting it back as best she could, she swallowed and steeled herself. "Oh! Mr Clovis," she raised her voice up just a little higher to further disguise herself after the mask. It sounded a little unnatural for her liking but thankfully, he'd clearly been drinking tonight… "I'm sorry, I don't been to intrude."

He raised an amused eyebrow at her, making no attempt to hide the way his eyes roamed over her body inch by inch. "Really? Because the fact that I've found you in my _private_ office says otherwise…"

Suddenly, Padme felt hyper-aware that her mask didn't cover her mouth and forced a coy smile. "Well, you've actually caught me being _bad_ tonight..." She emphasised the word bad with a hint of a smirk taking over her smile. As much as it made her skin crawl, rousing Clovis' lust would work out far better for her than his anger. Thinking fast, she created her lie. "You see, one of the other girls here dared me to sneak down here into your private quarters and I wanted to win."

He scoffed, "that's awfully bold… How were you planning to show her your victory?"

Behind her mask, Padme's eyes darted around the room until, on the desk, Clovis' personal stationary paper caught her eye. She moved toward it to create some space between them and trailed her finger along the thick mahogany. "I was going to take a piece of stationery… Nothing someone as important as you would ever miss."

To her absolute dismay, Clovis followed her deeper into the room, smirking vilely. "Mmm…" He came closer and rested his hands against the thick desk by either side of her body, trapping Padme against it and him. "Pity that I caught you then, isn't it? I suppose the question is now… How should I _punish_ you?"

"P –punish me?" She stuttered quietly, trembling. More memories flashed before her eyes and Padme _felt_ their touch upon her body as if it were happening all over again… Clovis' favourite punishment, the harsh _smack_ of his belt against her skin, _over_ and _over_ again until whatever tempter he'd fallen into was sated. Her eyes watered and she prayed he couldn't see it behind her mask.

Clovis clearly mistook Padme's fear for arousal because he pressed his body even closer to hers; forcing her to feel his stiffening length against her thigh and inhale the same overpowering cologne she'd smelled most days she'd spent here, when he'd collapse on top of her after he'd spent himself inside of her.

She wondered who endured that scent now?

"Yes…" He whispered, bringing a hand to rest on Padme's ribcage, "sneaking into someone's office and stealing is bad. You need to be taught a lesson" The words came all but groaned as his hand lifted to grab at Padme's breast, squeezing it tightly.

It was happening again. All the times he'd violated her came before her eyes again but this time Padme couldn't just will the memories away. It was occurring right _now_ and what made it worse was that if she wanted to get out of this alive… She had to let it.

The tears in her eyes spilled over, wetting the eye slits of her mask. Clovis' harsh grasp on her right breast tightened further and she hissed in pain. This only made him smile.

"Louder…" He commanded but before Padme had the chance to open her mouth, Clovis' other hand came up to rip at her dress and pull it down, revealing her bra to his ravenous eyes. "Hmm… Pretty… Very pretty…"

Beneath his touch, Padme's skin was crawling in disgust and she wanted to break his fingers one by one… And she could, _easily_ , but she forced herself to remain in character for now for the sake of the mission. "Please…" She whimpered breathily. From horrible past experience, Padme knew that pleading was a large turn on for Clovis and that could be used to her advantage.

He leaned in close to her face and just as Padme braced herself for a kiss, Clovis' lips moved to her neck where he kissed her gently once and then sunk his sharp teeth into her flesh. "I said _louder_ ," he hissed against the wound. This caused a real cry of pain from her lips and then once more when he shoved her back against the desk with intent to hurt.

"That's better," Clovis panted, his green eyes blazing with lust as they rose from Padme's heaving chest to her eyes. She felt frozen suddenly, trapped in her own body as her abuser touched her and hurt her all over again. After everything that happened, everything she'd imagined doing to this man to get her revenge, in the moment of seeing him again, Padme was powerless… Just like she'd been as his captive. More tears spilt as Clovis brought a hand to the edge of her mask. "Now… Let's see what's under this lovely mask, shall we?"

Behind said mask, Padme's eyes widened. If he took it off, it was over… The moment Clovis knew who she was and that she was back, she would never see the light of day again. Her mission would be over, Dorme's death would be meaningless and _Anakin_ … Padme opened her mouth to spin a lie, to find a reason _any_ reason to keep the mask on. No words came out, however, and as the corner of her mask came away, a dull sense of resignation began to come over her. Closing her eyes tight, she braced herself for what was to come.

Footsteps and a sudden _smacking_ sound brought her eyes back open with a snap. Clovis fell to the floor with a heavy thump and Padme could see a small spot of blood wetting the back of his head. Her gaze turned to the attacker only to find Anakin standing where Clovis had been moments ago, panting and holding a large black paperweight in his palm.

"Are you alright?" He asked, eyes wide with concern. She didn't answer, instead turning away from the Hutt bodyguard with fresh tears of mortification and shame welling in her eyes as she tugged up the tattered remains of her dress. What the hell had happened to her? She was supposed to be on a _mission_ here but the moment Clovis had touched her, she froze. It was pathetic! No, no… This wasn't the time to be thinking like that. _Focus! You're Agent Naberrie right now, not Amidala and not Padme._

From behind her, Padme could hear Anakin bend to his knees beside Clovis. "Is he alive?" She asked though truthfully, she was a little afraid to hear the answer. If he was dead then that was it, all her planning would have been for _nothing._ Sure, dead was dead and it was no less than he deserved but she'd wanted _proper_ justice to be served. She, Dorme, Ahsoka and the other girls he kept here all deserved that.

"No," Anakin said. "He's unconscious though. Will probably be out for a while."

Nodding, Padme removed her mask and wiped away the wetness on her cheeks before replacing it and turning around. "Help me drag him over to the safe."

Thankfully, Anakin didn't say anything else as they worked together to lift Clovis' heavy weight and pull him across the room to where the large safe waited. Dropping her portion of his weight, Padme grabbed Clovis' hand and pressed his thumb against the little blue pad. Three seconds later, the small screen lit up and the mechanical locks began to disengage with audible _clicking_.

"I thought you said it was a combination safe," Anakin grunted as he replaced Clovis' body on the floor.

"It was." She said. Once the locks had finished opening themselves, Padme pulled the door further apart to create more space and reached beneath her ruffled skirts again for the small black cell-phone she'd tucked into the other stocking. It didn't take long to rifle through the files and find what she needed. Everything was sorted alphabetically and there were only two files under the letter T. She carefully extracted the folder bearing the name ' _Tolas'_ and made her way toward the desk.

Page by page, Padme carefully photographed everything outlining the murder of the original Hutt heir. Once she'd taken the photo, she ensured it was saved before taking the next. There couldn't be any mistakes now. This was vital. Once she was finished, a sigh of relief passed her lips. _They'd done it!_ But her relief and victory didn't last long, they still had to deal with Clovis and get out after all. Forcing herself to concentrate again, she tucked the phone back into her stocking and reached for the man's legs.

"Help me put him into the chair." She asked and Anakin followed her without question or complaint. Once they settled the unconscious man in his chair leaning his head in his arms on the desk, Padme took a few steps back. "There… Hopefully, people will think he had a few too many and passed out down here."

"Yeah… Until they see the blood." Anakin gestured toward the crown of Clovis' head where the small patch of blood oozed from the wound. He was right… Things had to look normal as if nothing of note had happened until they were long gone. Looking around, she spotted one of Clovis' special monogrammed handkerchiefs folded neatly on a shelf and quickly snatched it up before dapping gently at the wound to clear the stain. "How does it look?" Anakin winced.

"Not too bad." When she was satisfied, Padme nodded to herself and stepped backwards. "I think we're ready to go." Not waiting for Anakin to answer, she headed toward the closed door without hesitation. Inwardly, she was shaking from the ordeal of seeing Clovis again and having his touch on her body, but she wasn't prepared to let the cracks in her armour show. Not here. The mission wasn't over until they made it back to Anakin's apartment.

Before she could make it out of the office, however, Anakin caught her arm in his hand, making Padme flinch and gasp. He didn't miss it and released her immediately. "Hey… Padme, I know you don't want me to ask this, but are you alright?"

He'd already asked her that and she hadn't answered. Her bottom lip began to tremble against her will and she sunk her teeth down into the flesh to stop it. _Of course I'm not okay!_ She wanted to shout at him. _I left Ahsoka behind in there – I left everyone behind to suffer and Clovis… I let him…_

Padme pressed her lips together and shook her head. "We need to go." The longer they stayed here the closer to shattering her resilience became. Just being in here again felt like she was drowning in the pain of the past, every second squeezing more and more air out of her lungs until all that was left was cold, black numbness.

He must have sensed her turmoil because he let the subject drop and held out his hand. "Okay. Let's get out of here."

Padme gladly placed her palm into his, gripping it as tightly as though it were her lifeline as Anakin led her through the large Clovis estate and out into the cold night air. She felt dazed and distant as if merely watching events rather than participating.

It was only after Anakin helped her climb into the car and drove off of Clovis' property that Padme felt the first tear fall.


	8. Chapter 8

Padme was silent all the way back to his apartment, legs curled up on the seat so that her legs pressed against her chest, bunching up her dress and staring out of the window. Anakin didn't push her, focusing on the drive until he pulled up outside the apartment building and cutting off the engine's power. Without a word, she climbed out of the car and started toward the building. Bewildered, Anakin stepped out after her.

"Hey!" He called out causing Padme to turn back to look at him. He detached the apartment key from his key set and tossed it over, watching her catch it with ease. "I have to go back for Rotta." She still didn't say anything, making him worry. Physically, Padme seemed to be alright, but emotionally… _Mentally…_ Anakin wasn't sure. "I'll be back soon, I promise." He continued. Her torn and rumpled dress caught his attention and he frowned. That wasn't a good sign. "Do you want me to get anything for you?" He asked partly out of legitimate concern and part to break her silence, even a little.

"No thank you." Padme murmured distantly and turned around to walk toward the building. Anakin watched her step inside the door and climbed back into the car. Still, he waited until he saw the dim light of the living room turn on through the curtains before reversing the car back out onto the street. Padme dominated Anakin's thoughts for the duration of the drive back to the Clovis' mansion and even when he returned to the party she was all he could think about.

Searching through the crowds for the young Hutt heir, the image of Clovis touching Padme's body haunted his thoughts. Over and over again, Anakin saw her trembling, heard her sniffling and felt that white-hot rage that'd ruled him in those few seconds before knocking the piece of scum unconscious. Truthfully, he could have handled Clovis better and in a less conspicuous way, but he hadn't _wanted_ to. Anakin had wanted to do much worse to the disgusting bastard than hit him with a paperweight. For everything he'd done to Padme then and now, Clovis deserved to suffer.

After around fifteen minutes, Anakin finally tracked down Rotta and accepted his invitation into the private area to party with a fake smile. The twins he'd left the heir with before had been replaced by three brunettes in navy masks adorned with tacky crystals and feathers. The girls weren't interested in mere staff like Anakin and he couldn't have cared less about them in return, content to watch the girls humiliate themselves by fawning over Rotta.

The grandfather clock he'd looked at earlier while waiting for Padme struck two a.m. and Anakin stood up, grabbing Rotta by the arm as he did so. The man could barely carry his own weight and slurred what few words he managed to force through his lips. _Time to get the fuck out of here._ The three desperate girls groaned in disappointment as he led Rotta out of the exclusive space and toward the exit of the room. As usual, the younger man fought him all the way, protesting and threatening to have Anakin fired for spoiling the night's fun but he was deaf to the bluffs the boy yelled in his ear by now. He'd been in charge of looking after Rotta for long enough to recognise a tantrum when he saw one.

It was just after three a.m. when Anakin got Jabba's son back home and pushed him onto the bed and it was another thirty minutes before he was stepping over the threshold of his apartment, bone tired. Yawning, he shrugged off his suit jacket and dropped it down onto the couch, followed quickly by his tie before his fingers began working at the small buttons of his crisp white shirt. Heading toward the bedroom, Anakin was distracted suddenly by the gentle patter of the shower running.

He paused outside the bathroom and frowned. It was a little late for a shower, no? And surely if Padme had wanted one she would have been in and out by now… Concern crept into Anakin's chest suddenly. _He had a bad feeling about this…_ Reaching up, he knocked softly against the door and waited. When he didn't receive a response, he did it again, harder and louder.

Nothing.

Concern turned to panic and Anakin pushed the door wide open.

And froze.

Padme was huddled on the shower floor with her head down and her arms wrapped around her knees. Her shoes and mask were abandoned on the floor by the sink but her dress was still on, the rich fabric soaked by the water pelting it from above. Anakin lingered by the doorway for a moment, shocked, before his heart leapt into his throat and he slowly stepped forward toward the shower. He kicked off his shoes and socks and undid the remaining buttons of his shirt and slung it over the sink. He left his pants and undershirt on and padded toward the shower door, opening it with a wince.

The water was lukewarm at best and he wondered if that'd been deliberate or if she'd been sitting in here long enough that the hot water was almost all used up. Pushing that worrying thought out of his mind, Anakin gingerly kneeled before Padme's small frame, grimacing at the small space allowed to him and lightly placed his palm on her arm. She startled at his touch, raising her head and widening her eyes as she saw him sitting in the shower with her. The water had made her make up run judging by the two watery black lines that stretched from her eyes to her chin. Anakin tried to brush the black tears away but it smudged across her cheek leaving a bruise-like mark smeared against her pale skin. His stomach twisted at the sight of her and he knew what he had to do.

"Hey…" He murmured quietly, "c'mon, let's get you cleaned up." Standing up, Anakin carefully pulled Padme to her feet with him and then turned her around and undid the zipper of the sodden gown. Weighted down by the water, it slid easily off her body as Anakin tugged it down and fell into a wet heap on the shower floor. Padme didn't resist as he helped her step out of the drenched garment and simply stood there stiffly as he tossed it out onto the bathroom floor, out of the way.

His shampoo was nothing fancy, just the standard stuff but he guessed she wouldn't mind as he squeezed a generous helping of it out onto his palm and began to work it into Padme's dark hair. She didn't say a word but Anakin took encouragement from the way she tilted her head back into his touch and closed her eyes. When he was finished, he carefully rinsed her hair free of the shampoo and picked up the matching bottle of conditioner, combing it and his fingers through her hair until it was tangle free and flowed like silk through his fingers.

After rinsing her hair again, he reached for a washcloth she'd been using off the silver rack, soaping it up and gently starting to run it over her body. He'd left her bra and panties on but Padme reached back and unclasped it, letting the wet undergarment slide down her arms and throwing it out of the shower after her dress, followed closely by her underwear. Anakin was surprised but kept that to himself and continued to carefully clean her skin, mindful not to stare at her as he did so.

Padme was extraordinarily beautiful and it would have been all too easy to get distracted by the curves and wonders of her body but Anakin kept his eyes averted and his mind on the task. He washed her from head to toe until lastly, after rinsing and re-soaping up the cloth, he wiped away the smudged make up from her face. She looked more like herself when he was done but she also looked vulnerable now, naked in a way that was more than skin deep. And the look in her eyes when they met his…

Anakin swallowed. "Come on, let's dry you off and get you to bed."

Once again, Padme said nothing and let herself be led with Anakin's gentle coaxing. Once she was dry, he fetched her one of his larger t-shirts and a pair of his old shorts, helped her into them and then led her to her bedroom. He watched as she peeled the blankets back and climbed in, moving forward to pull them back up around her body when she made no move to do it herself. It was a little strange to effectively tuck someone in and it was certainly something he'd never done before, but Anakin found he didn't mind. On his way out, he glanced briefly at the bedside table where Padme had placed her phone and journal but didn't move or ask about them.

They would think about those in the morning.

He was almost out of the door when Padme spoke. "Anakin?" Her voice sounded small and fragile. "Thank you." She murmured when she turned around, the two simple words brimming with emotion. This time it was Anakin's turn for silence. He stood there, heart pounding in his chest, and exhaled before nodding and walking out of the bedroom, shutting the door behind him again.

It was almost five in the morning by the time Anakin changed into dry clothes and cleaned up the mess in the bathroom, including bagging up and throwing out the dress he'd acquired for the evening. He'd barely escaped Miraj's shop with his innocence intact but figured hedging the fierce woman's advances was more than worth helping Padme with her goals. The soaked and rumpled garment was worth a small fortune – as Miraj had so graciously reminded him at least ten times – and it was ruined. Probably for the best, neither he or Padme needed a reminder of tonight.

Beyond exhausted, he collapsed down onto the couch and let his mind wander. _Thank you…_ That'd what she'd said and she'd said it so tenderly and _genuinely_ … And she'd said it to _him_ , a man neck-deep in the horrible underworld that'd caused her so much pain in the first place. It was incredulous.

Rush Clovis had abused her while she'd been held in his estate and Anakin knew the pig had touched her again tonight. Hell, he'd _seen_ the bastard's hands on her… _Hurting_ her again. It was nothing short of amazing that Padme had kept her composure together until they'd finished what they'd gone to do. Of course, Anakin was aware of the emotional scars Padme bore but he'd had _no fucking idea_ how much pain she was truly in until he'd found her huddled into herself in the shower.

And yet still… For _some_ reason, she'd let _him_ – the Hutt's lapdog – take care of her. Padme had trusted him enough to be vulnerable and then had actually _thanked_ him for it… As if he deserved her gratitude. _He didn't fucking understand._

He'd been in this job for years now and for _so long_ Anakin had been sure that all the good and decent parts of him had faded away beneath all the bloodshed but this girl was bringing parts of him back he was convinced were gone forever.

 _What are you doing to me, Padme?_

The answer eluded him.

* * *

Padme was brought to wakefulness by the bright sun's warm rays shining through the window. Groaning sleepily, she blinked her eyes open and yawned. Once she was fully awake, she sat up and back against the headboard, thinking about on the previous night. Everything came back and replayed itself to her in slow motion, the party, Ahsoka, seeing Clovis and Anakin…

 _Anakin…_

She'd been so lost and in pain when he'd found her in the shower. Even the memory of it made her eyes burn. Honestly, she wasn't particularly sure _why_ she'd let him handle her like a child, bathing her, dressing her and tucking her into bed, but the shame and embarrassment she expected to feel never came. Instead, what Padme felt was warmth and surprise that she'd allowed him to see her in such a fragile state. She was usually so careful with keeping her carefully constructed walls up, stayed in character and avoided anyone who had the potential of being the enemy… Something of which the Hutt bodyguard had in spades. Had she really forgotten that? Or was it something else, something Anakin triggered within her…?

The thought was unsettling.

Padme took a deep breath, closed her eyes and exhaled.

She had to focus.

When she walked into the kitchen a few minutes later, journal and phone in hand, Anakin was already there cooking. He looked up as she entered and smiled softly, "morning." He said and turned his attention back to the eggs sizzling in the pan.

"Good morning," Padme responded quietly. It was on the tip of her tongue to talk about what had happened last night as she sat down at the small table, placing down the phone and journal. A minute or two later, Anakin placed down a plate of scrambled eggs before her and sat down across from her with his own plate. They sat in silence for a few moments until she licked her dry lips and cleared her throat, drawing his attention away from breakfast. "Anakin, about last night –"

"We don't have to talk about it if you don't want to." He interrupted quickly as if sensing Padme's hesitation.

"Okay." She nodded gratefully. Treading through everything was the last thing she really wanted to discuss this morning and she was glad they seemed to be on the same page about it. There were more important things to deal with right now. "I think we should talk about _this_ , though." She slid forward the journal and phone until it was within Anakin's reach.

He placed down his fork and reached for the leather book, picking it up gingerly as if the pages may crumble beneath his touch if he wasn't careful. He drew in a breath and opened it, eyes taking in the first page. After a few moments, Padme heard his breath catch in his throat and frowned. Something shifted in the air, though exactly _what_ , she wasn't sure.

"Is something wrong?" She asked and Anakin's eyes flicked upwards to meet hers. A look of deep mistrust crossed his features for the first time since they first met but he cleared the expression away quickly. _Too quickly._

He turned the page and shook his head. "No, of course not."

Padme waited as Anakin took his time reading through the journal entry by entry, sifting through the pages until at last, he finished her final entry and sat the book down again. "You've gathered a lot of incriminating information in here." He said as he picked up the phone Padme had scanned Tolas Hutt's file onto. Another two minutes passed and he whistled lowly. " _Shit._ " His blue eyes met Padme's browns. "This is definitely enough to start a war between the families."

A smug sense of accomplishment sunk into Padme's chest. "Good." It was appeasing to hear her years of suffering undercover in Clovis' brothel had paid off. _It was all worth it… Dorme, we did it, we really did it!_

Anakin regarded her thoughtfully for a moment, "you really want to go through with this?"

"Of course!"

He nodded. "Okay. If that's what you want, then we will. But, I want you to know that this could get messy. Jabba _is_ going to act on this but he'll want to know where I got the information from."

Padme pursed her lips tightly. He was right, the information would be more than enough to infuriate Jabba enough into action but he didn't get to be where he was without asking questions. Of course, the Hutt kingpin would want a source for information this important. "You could always tell him the truth." Of course, it would be the truth as she'd led Anakin to believe and certainly not the true story but Padme's alias was believable enough. "Keep my name out of it and tell him that a former brothel girl of Clovis' is interested in blackmailing the family who abused her."

Anakin considered it for a moment before shaking his head. "I could… But most girls in your position don't usually have the wits to discover accounting discrepancies never mind keeping detailed paper trails of embezzlement. Believe me; your identity will rouse his suspicion… And if not him, then Bib's and that's _not_ what we need."

"Alright… Don't tell him who I am then. Tell him that I'm some disgruntled former employee – an accountant maybe – who's looking to get back at the family who dismissed me."

"It's a lot more believable that an accountant would have access to this kind of information…" He drawled thoughtfully. "I'm supposed to accompany Jabba to a business meeting tomorrow night. I'll hand everything over to him then. Hopefully, he'll be so distracted by the information that he won't stop to consider the source."

"Hopefully." Padme nodded in agreement. The thought of being under the suspicion of the most powerful man in the city was frightening.

With everything decided, they finished their breakfast in silence each mulling over what was to come tomorrow night. When they were done, they cleared the plates and loaded them into the dishwasher, working in tandem with each other and when it was done, Anakin excused himself and headed to his bedroom, taking the phone and journal with him.

Padme lingered downstairs alone, restless. Unfortunately, she'd already subjected the apartment to a deep clean the day of Clovis' party to distract from her nerves so there wasn't much to do other than a quick dusting. Everything was more or less spotless, so she decided to see if there was anything Anakin needed help with instead.

She found him sitting on his bed with her journal in hand when she entered his bedroom after knocking. His eyes met hers as she stepped inside and he reached over to the little bedside table and carefully deposited the book there. He looked tired, Padme realised, _really_ tired. And no wonder he was… After all, he'd been up almost all night looking after her. She felt terrible.

"I don't mean to bother you," she murmured quietly, closing the door behind her. She'd come in here to ask if he needed anything but the words died in her throat. They were nothing but a flimsy excuse to cover the real reason she'd come in here wanting to speak to him. No more games. Padme got straight to the point. "I… I just wanted to say that what you did for me last night… Well, thank you." That was all that really needed to be said and she knew she should stop there but she couldn't. Honestly, Padme wanted – no, she _needed_ – answers. Anakin worked for the _Hutts_ and despite everything he'd told her, she wasn't an idiot, she knew he was more than a simple bodyguard. She needed to understand how someone with the loyalties he did could be so kind. "But, I need to know," she continued, "why did you take care of me like that?" Everything he'd done for her… Padme didn't want to hurt him, but she needed to _know_. While undercover in Clovis' estate she'd lived with men like him, men in his job for years and not once had any of them ever showed her a shred of the compassion Anakin had.

For once, Anakin's beautiful blue eyes were guarded and difficult to read. "You were in pain." He opened his mouth to say more but the words he'd wanted to say never came. Instead, his jaw tightened and he exhaled sharply through his nose. "You were in pain and it hurt to see you like that."

Padme's breath caught in her throat. She stepped forward as something in her chest tightened. "Why would it hurt you to see me in pain?" She whispered.

At that, his expression crumbled and with a stab of pain in her heart, Padme realised her question had wounded him. Anakin couldn't meet her eyes, staring down at his clenched hands instead as she waited for her answer. "God, Padme…" He sighed, "despite what I do and who I work for… I still have the capacity to care about people y'know."

The secret meaning of his carefully chosen words wasn't lost on her. She could hear it in the undertone of his voice.

 _I care about you._

She didn't need to hear him say it because he already had in a thousand small gestures and smiles and in the painstaking efforts he'd gone to to try and help her. Tears pricked at Padme's eyes suddenly as she realised that everything she'd been fighting with emotionally, he'd been fighting too. He felt just the same as she did. _Oh, Anakin… I care about you too._

Blinking to keep her tears at bay as she walked toward him, Padme considered what Obi-wan would say about this. No, she didn't need to consider it. She _knew_ what he would say and she knew what Dorme would think about it too, but she _didn't_ care anymore. The simple truth was that she wasn't _Amidala_ around Anakin nor was she agent Naberrie… She was _herself_ , just Padme. And Padme had feelings for him, strong, uncontrollable feelings that were as beautiful as they were terrifying. Yes, it was wrong and maybe they were doomed and she was going to be heartbroken but Padme couldn't stop it anymore.

The fact of the matter was she loved him.

Truly.

Deeply.

 _Loved him._

Padme stopped at the edge of the bed, directly in front of him and reached out to brush her fingertips along his cheek. Anakin looked up at her, surprised, but didn't say anything as she leaned down, kissed him and slowly pushed him down to the bed.

Anakin's intense azure gaze didn't leave Padme's as she crawled on top of him but she _did_ see them flutter shut as she leaned in to kiss him again this time with more urgency. "You're not a monster, Anakin," she whispered as they pulled apart. She knew – and had done for a while – that he needed to hear this. Their talk the other night had proven how little he thought of himself and how trapped he felt in this life in the underworld… But it wasn't true. Padme had seen his good heart. "You're just like me… You're human and you're a good person."

And then she was kissing him again and everything about it was different to the first time they'd been together. Where before it had been violence and power and revenge, now they were tender and gentle and… And _loving._ Padme took her time undressing him, slowly peeling away the layers of Anakin's clothing before ridding herself of her own at her own unhurried leisure. Even when they were pressed together, skin to skin, she took her time, using soft touches and gentle caresses to build their desire until they burned for each other.

When Padme finally – _finally_ – sunk down on him, she rode him slowly, _deeply_ and Anakin reached up to place his hands on her waist, tentatively squeezing at her flesh. She moaned at the sensation and moved her body faster, gasping and trembling at the intensity. He groaned lowly when she ground herself down onto him harder, squeezing her inner walls with every decent to make sure he enjoyed this too. And then he was sitting up suddenly, mouth latching on to the crook of Padme's neck as his hands wandered back to cup her backside. He began to take initiative and lifted his hips to meet hers, thrusting himself just a little more deeply inside of her each time and making them both cry out with pleasure. Using his grip, Anakin slowed the pace back down to a slow grind and Padme felt every inch of him inside of her. It was the most pleasurable thing she'd ever felt.

This new angle tore ragged gasps and half-whimpers of his name from Padme's mouth as they moved together. Her fingers moved through his golden curls and squeezed as he gasped hot air against her breasts. When she began to tremble above him, Anakin cupped the nape of her neck and brought her lips down to his, swallowing her soft cries of bliss until she couldn't stand it anymore and threw her head back with a long broken moan. He wasn't far behind her and Padme wrapped her arms around his body as he shuddered and groaned through his own release.

Afterwards, in the soft afterglow they lay tangled together in the bed, sweaty and sleepy and far too content to do anything but explore the other's body with gentle fingers. Anakin lazed on his back and Padme curled herself around him, resting her head on his shoulder, enjoying the feeling of his heart beating against her palm. Her mind wandered off until the words inked into his back came to her. _Don't look back_. She wondered if they had something to do with what he did for the Hutts? He'd said he didn't have a choice when she'd tried to coax him into talking about it. Maybe there was something in his past… Something that had led him into this life of crime against his will.

Raising her gaze up just enough to look at his handsome face, Padme pursed her lips.

 _What are you running from, Anakin?_

* * *

Anakin watched Padme's chest rise and fall beneath the blanket as she slept peacefully in his arms. One hand idly brushed through her silky curls as he watched her and his heart began to ache. He'd had his suspicions about her from the start and _especially_ so lately… She'd always seemed _too_ smart, _too_ determined and quick to be just a brothel girl who'd managed to escape her captor. No, Padme was more than that and he'd always known it.

In the end, it was her journal that'd given her away. All cops and agents were taught to write in the same cookie cutter method and Anakin had recognised it right away. They wrote in code, undercover agents, so that were their journals of evidence to be discovered, it wouldn't be clear what they'd amassed right away. It was stupid, in his opinion. A flaw in their training… When you'd seen one cop's writing, you'd seen them all and _that_ made it easy to spot spies.

Padme wasn't the first undercover cop he'd seen try to pull one over on the powerful underworld families. Anakin shuddered as he remembered the last, a man whose true identity had been discovered to be agent Mace Windu that'd had gone undercover as one of Jabba's house chefs.

Jabba had had the man fed alive to his pet bear in the basement when he was caught.

And that was _no less_ than what Rush Clovis would do to Padme if he got his hands on her. After all, an escaped brothel girl was a mild annoyance but an escaped secret agent with damning information and evidence to back it up was a budding disaster. If she'd had _any damned sense_ she would have fled this city the moment her leg healed up.

Instead, she was here with _him_ planning to take down the family she'd obviously been _assigned_ to topple.

Anakin had been in this world for five years… He _knew_ this game and he knew Padme was in over her head. If Clovis caught her a second time she wouldn't be so lucky. She would die for an unfulfilled cause, just like Windu and countless others before him.

Padme shifted in her sleep and Anakin pulled her closer to his body, pressing his lips to her forehead for a long moment. More than anything else, he wanted to protect her and he wanted her to stay here with him in this little life they were living. But those two things were incompatible. It was either one or the other and as badly as it hurt to admit, Padme needed to leave this city and _him_ far behind her. Anakin might never be free of this life but she still had a chance, one she _needed_ to take, his feelings be damned.

He loved her… And because of that, Anakin needed to let her go.


	9. Chapter 9

_Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god._

The three words repeated themselves over and over in Padme's mind as panic raced through her body. This couldn't be right… It _couldn't_ be right! She must have – she'd done something wrong and messed it up somehow that _had_ to be it. There was no other explanation, surely? It was impossible, completely and utterly impossible. She threw herself off of the kitchen chair so quickly that it scraped across the floor before falling back with a loud _thump_.

Wincing, she bent down to put it back to rights and began to pace the length of the apartment. She couldn't breathe. She was sweating and cold at the same time and she was torn between screaming at the top of her lungs and falling to the floor and crying. This wasn't fair. _It wasn't fair!_

Three more laps around the apartment brought Padme back to the kitchen table with an attempt at a calming breath. Carefully, she lowered herself down into the chair and squeezed her eyes shut tight as tears welled up. How could this be happening? Everything was unstable enough right now never mind _this_ …

Anakin had gone to work early this morning and had promised to pass along her journal and Tolas' file to Jabba when he saw him. _Everything_ they'd planned was about to happen which meant trouble was on the horizon. The Hutts and Clovis' going against each other had the potential to _destroy_ this city's criminal underground for good but it _also_ had the power to burn the city to the ground. Padme had _no idea_ which way it could go… But it was a risk she was willing to take if there was a chance for peace.

All the instability meant she had to be ready for action… Ready to see her mission through. But now… _How could she_?

When she'd been in Clovis' captivity, once a month each girl would be led into the small dingy medical room and given an injection to ensure there were no babies born as a result of the men who used them. Contraception was cheaper than a nursery after all. It'd become second nature to her, something she didn't even think about after a while. After so long in the routine, something like contraception had never even _occurred_ to Padme even after escaping.

She was _an idiot._

With trembling hands, Padme sniffled and picked up the small piece of white plastic she'd left on the table. She hadn't even had any real symptoms… There'd just been something nagging at the back of her brain and when she considered how long it'd been since her last injection… She'd only bought the test as a precaution, just to be sure and had picked up a packet of condoms in a resolve to be careful from now on. It was just a scare, a reminder to wake up and take protecting themselves more seriously.

That was what she'd thought, what she _expected…_ But now the entire world had spun upside down. She and Anakin had been _colossally_ stupid and this was the result. "I'm pregnant," Padme whispered aloud, digesting the revelation. So far, she'd taken three tests, all positive. That was pretty conclusive, wasn't it?

What was she going to do? If she was pregnant then she'd have to declare it to Obi-wan and be pulled out of the job… God only knew what'd happen then. It would be easy enough for him to figure out the child didn't come from her time with Clovis, which meant he'd _know_ Padme had been sleeping with her contact. And that only meant one thing. Her career was over.

Grief washed over her at the thought. She'd worked _so hard_ and sacrificed so much for her career; it was part of her _identity_ , being an agent was who Padme was. It was all she'd ever wanted and the idea that when this was over it could just be gone was… It was unthinkable.

Padme always wanted to have a family one day. It'd always been on the distant horizon, a dream for a day when the perfect man and the perfect time came. Neither had appeared thus far in her life. Now, here she was, in love with the most _un-_ perfect man and pregnant with his child in the _worst_ time imaginable.

How would it even work? There was so much to consider and it frightened her. Padme didn't want to have a child whose father had strong ties to the underworld. It was too dangerous. Anakin's job could put them in danger and that wasn't something she was willing to risk. But she loved him… But she had _no idea_ how they were supposed to work when her mission was complete, but –

But, but, but...

Almost hesitantly, Padme placed a hand over her stomach and sighed. What was done was done. For better or worse, she was having this child and everything else… That would have to come together in time. Maybe, after everything she'd been through, Obi-wan would have pity on her and keep her on the force… Perhaps not on active duty but desk work. She could settle for that, she _could._ It wasn't ideal but it would be staying in her preferred line of work. And it would allow her a way to provide for the baby.

And Anakin… She had already decided to keep his name out of her reports. She'd tell people that they'd struck a deal, he helped her for anonymity and no one would suspect a thing. It happened all the time. That prevented the threat of him being arrested when the dust settled… But that didn't mean he'd actually _want_ anything to do with her. When Anakin found out who she really was, Padme couldn't shake the fear that he would hate her, that he'd turn his back on her and break her heart.

Would he even _want_ a child? His life was chaotic enough running around after the Hutt heir and adding a child into the mix would only make things more difficult. She would understand if he wanted nothing to do with it. Or at least she _would_ if it weren't _Anakin._ He was a good person and her heart told her he wouldn't abandon her. He cared about her… He may even love her too.

Loving someone and trusting them were two very different matters, however.

 _Did_ she trust Anakin?

If she'd asked herself this question just a few days ago, Padme would have said yes… But now? The situation was so volatile and unprecedented, she had _no idea_ what to expect. She had to speak to him. Then everything would be alright… Tonight, when he got home, she would tell him about the baby and they could decide what happened next. She wanted them to be a team, a united front ready to face whatever the world threw their way. And they could be, she really believed that. It all depended on how tonight went.

* * *

Rush Clovis was furious, Julian was sure of that.

The boss' face was red with rage and there was an unnatural vein bulging above his right eye. If that weren't enough proof of the state the head of the Clovis family was in, the words that left his mouth next certainly sealed the deal.

"That fucking _whore_." Clovis spat. He pounded his fists against the desk with such force that Julian winced. That had to have _hurt_. "The _nerve_ of her! Coming back here… Pretending to be some rich little slut… Stealing the contents of _that_ file!" The man ran a hand through his hair and then fixed his angry gaze on Julian. "Take your best men and track her down! Do you understand?" Julian nodded silently as Clovis rounded the table and came to stand directly in front of him. "You saw the footage, yes?"

"Yes, sir." Julian replied, "I saw it."

Clovis sneered, malice alight in his eyes. "Little cunt didn't realise I had cameras installed in here. Well, she'll live to regret it." The man's crazed eyes focused on Julian's expressionless face once more. "You know the information she stole, which means you know what'll happen if she hands it over to the Hutts."

He nodded again.

Clovis' eyes were colder than ice. "So when I tell _you_ ," he poked his finger into Julian's chest, "that you _will_ be successful in bringing that too-bit fucktoy back here alive, along with that phone, you understand?"

"I understand."

Clovis stepped back. "Good. Get to it then."

"Uh," Julian cleared his throat, "sorry, boss, but… Where would you like us to look for her? It's been a week since the party. She could have gone anywhere by now."

At that, Rush Clovis smiled and it was unsettling. He returned to his side of the desk, opening the silver laptop and Julian heard the taps of his fingers against the buttons. After a few moments the boss spun the screen around. "See him?" He pointed at the CCTV footage of a tall, blonde man with the escaped whore. "I've seen him before. He works for the Hutts. I had my people in their camp do some digging and I've got his address." Clovis wrote it down on a piece of paper and slid it across the desk for Julian to pick up. "If he's there when you go for the girl then kill him. He knows too much and his loyalty is with Jabba. Now go."

Julian didn't need to be told twice. He stormed out of the boss' office and began mentally sorting through his men as he walked toward the security wing of the house. By the time he arrived, he had a team in mind for the job. They were the cruellest sons of bitches Rush Clovis employed. And they would not fail.

* * *

Jabba slammed the small book shut, placed the phone down on top of it and leant back on his chair away from the desk. A long, shuddering breath escaped his thin lips and he swallowed, hands beginning to tremble as the information he'd read processed itself in his mind. Eventually, his dark eyes rose up to take a look at the young bodyguard standing before him.

"You were right to bring this to me." He rasped, fighting against the pressure tightening in his throat. _Damn it,_ where was Bib when he was needed? Useless ugly bastard. What in god's name was he paying him for? No, no… His hot rage wasn't directed at his assistant, no…

"Yes." The boy nodded. "What Clovis has done to your family is unforgivable."

Jabba considered his next words carefully… He'd brought the bodyguard into this house to protect his only living son from the dangers of the world but nothing could keep Rotta from himself, he'd long given up on the boy turning out to be anything other than an embarrassment to the family name… But Skywalker was good for him. Hiring him had been a boon for this family. Jabba did not grant the ink of his name onto the skin of just anyone after all. Anakin was good at keeping Rotta out of the worst kinds of trouble and he was a good bruiser… But Jabba could smell a lie in his story from a mile away.

"I want to meet this accountant of yours." He forced the words through his mouth despite the pain they brought him, mourning the strong, commanding voice he'd once owned. But there was no time to mull that over right now, he had a deception to draw out. "They should be thanked for the _service_ they have done for my family."

Anakin didn't so much as blink. "Of course. I'll arrange it right away."

Oh, he was _good_. Jabba might have been impressed if his mind wasn't occupied with the many ways he could inflict pain on Clovis. "Right. It can wait, Anakin, until after." He raised his hand to rub gingerly across his throat. Speaking was getting more painful by the moment and the kingpin knew he _should_ radio for Bib before continuing this meeting but the fury that burned hot inside of him pushed any rational thought to the back of his mind.

Anakin frowned, "after, sir?"

Was it not obvious? "Clovis killed _my son_!" Jabba cried, losing his composure for a moment. His throat screamed in protest at the effort but the trembling gangster didn't care about his own pain. He saw Tolas suddenly in his mind's eye… His beautiful boy _slaughtered_ and left to look like a coward who'd taken his own life over a woman. Clovis would pay! Taking a deep, calming breath he continued, "Clovis murdered my son… And now I will have his children, his wife and his own life in return."

Clovis' eldest boy was just over ten if Jabba remembered correctly and his daughter was still in diapers. Shame they'd pay for the sins of their father but as the saying went, _"an eye for an eye…"_ He curled his fingers into fists and squeezed until the tips of his nails dug into his palms. He was going to make Clovis watch his children die and then he'd make the rat watch Jabba slit his wife's throat before putting a bullet in his brain. The entire lowlife Clovis faction would be _gone_ by the time he was finished in that estate.

"We hit them hard and fast." Jabba's voice was weaker than usual, strained from overuse. "I want everyone with the surname Clovis dead before the night is over, understood?"

From where he stood, Anakin nodded. "Yes, sir."

"And I want Clovis to myself. I will face him myself, father to father."

"Understood." The bodyguard said.

"I want the attack put together and launched as quickly as possible. It won't take Rush long to realise what information has leaked and I don't want to risk the rat bastard fleeing before I have my revenge. You and Fives are in charge… The attack will take place the on Thursday… Gives us today and tomorrow to prepare. We attack early – at dawn – before the city wakes up. Every man I employ is at your disposal with this, Anakin, use them."

At this, Anakin's deliberately neutral expression faltered slightly, " _all_ of them, sir?"

Jabba nodded. "Everyone. This will be a massacre, Anakin. Clovis killed my boy! I will never rest until his death has been avenged and the streets are filled with Clovis' blood. I'm giving you full control over my forces and I want you to slaughter every man, woman and child in that house. Staff included."

The bodyguard's stiff posture slackened and he dared a few steps forward. "But, sir, the woman and the children are –"

"They will _all_ die! Betrayal of this nature reaps a brutal and equal response. The bloodshed to come is on the hands of no one but Clovis."

The boy hesitated and ripped his eyes away from Jabba's to compose himself and after a few moments, his gaze was cold and resigned. "It will be done, sir."

"Good." Jabba nodded. "You've done well for me, boy… It won't be forgotten."

* * *

Anakin was late… Nothing too unusual but it didn't stop Padme from pacing the length of the apartment again, practising what to say when he arrived. How exactly did one tell the man they were sleeping with that you're pregnant with his child… Especially when said man worked for the organisations you were paid to bring down? When you had the power to arrest him? He wouldn't want the baby, that was Padme's biggest fear. Why would he? Especially when he found out who she really was?

It would be _so easy_ to not tell him. She could complete her mission and disappear from his life altogether and raise the child alone. It would probably be easier on them both that way. But that wasn't what Padme _wanted_ to do. This baby was going to change everything, she'd made her peace with that, but that didn't mean it had to be a bad thing. Maybe this could be the push Anakin needed to finally get out? She was going to be suspended from the force, that was inevitable at this point, but if Anakin got out of his work for the Hutts, maybe they'd have a chance together… They could be a family.

She was going to have to reach out to her sister for help and that would be unpleasant, to say the least, but Sola didn't have to know everything… When she found out about the baby, she'd forgive Padme for taking this job, surely? Sola wouldn't turn them away; they were family at the end of the day.

Her hand touched her stomach gently and for the first time since this morning, she felt herself smile. She was going to have a baby… _Anakin's_ baby. They were going to be _parents_ and everything else… Everything else would come together eventually. She had to believe that. She _had_ to.

She'd been so distracted by the revelation it'd just barely been enough to make her mind off of Anakin giving Jabba the information today. Had he bitten the bait? Was it all enough to see her mission through and start a gang war between the two families? The lack of answers was agonising and Padme couldn't _wait_ for Anakin to just get home and fill her in.

Her mind was snapped out of her thoughts suddenly by the sound of heavy footsteps outside the door. Immediately, all of Padme's police instincts and training kicked in despite lack of use and her eyes scanned the kitchen for a weapon. By the time the apartment's door came crashing down she had two kitchen knives in hand.

The apartment being laid out on one floor was a disadvantage but Padme was fast and when the first of them came burling toward the kitchen, she silenced his shout to his comrades with two expert thrusts of her knife. Unfortunately, the next one was on her before she had a chance to prepare for his heavy weight and his bulk sent them both crashing to the floor. She grit her teeth and worked her right arm free at an awkward angle, bringing the second knife down hard into her assailant's neck. After a few moments, he went limp above her and Padme pushed him off.

Standing to her feet, she watched more of them file into the apartment and a hopeless realisation hit her. _There's too many of them… I can't fight them all._ A moment later, she recognised a few of their faces from the brothel and felt her chest begin to heave with panic.

These were Clovis' men.

The panic threatened to consume her but by sheer force of will, Padme calmed herself down a little. She couldn't fight them all which meant she needed an escape route out of here but the large men were covering the exit and heading straight toward her. She had _seconds_ at best.

 _Think, think, think!_

Panic bred desperation and a crazy idea came to her. The pot of soup she'd been boiling for dinner was still on the heat and in one quick motion she grabbed it and flung the contents over the men closest to her. The hot liquid splashed all over their faces and necks and they screamed, stumbling backwards as their skin was scalded. In the confusion, Padme dropped the pot and scrambled outside. By some miracle, she made it out of the apartment building and outside. The street was just within reach when sharp pain exploded inside of her leg in a familiar way.

She'd been shot. Again.

Immediately, she fell forward with a cry and before she could move a boot pressed against her back, holding her in place.

"Don't move, bitch, or the next one will be in your skull." A deep, unfamiliar voice boomed. Tears burned in her eyes as more of them appeared in the yard and Padme knew it was over. There was _nothing_ else she could do. Her heart was pounding in her ears, there was shouting all around her, her leg was throbbing and she could feel warm blood spill down the back of her calf.

Padme grit her teeth against the pain and twisted around as much as she could to face her captor. "Did he send you here to kill me?" She hissed. Every instinct in her body _screamed_ at her to fight, to push and shove and claw and bite until she found freedom, if not for herself but for her _baby_. But she couldn't. She _just couldn't._ Death was instant. It was over in seconds and _that_ was far preferable to being under Clovis' control again.

 _I'm sorry,_ she thought of the baby suddenly, _I'm so sorry_ …

She breathed in the dirt and grass beneath her and waited, bracing herself for the inevitable.

A cold chuckle came from above her in response. "Sorry, sweetheart. Boss wants you brought in alive… He's got some fun ideas for your reunion."

And then, Padme felt a sharp blow to the back of her head and her consciousness was snuffed out.

* * *

Anakin knew something had happened before he even turned into his driveway.

There was a large crowd of people outside his apartment building bathed in the blue and red lights of police sirens, all gasping and whispering. He drove as close to them as he could and then slammed down on his horn without warning to get them to move. It worked and he pushed the car further into the mess. Cold fear made his limbs heavy as Anakin climbed out of the car and headed inside the building. Police and paramedics littered the place and gave him suspicious looks as he passed.

Reaching his floor, Anakin ducked beneath yellow police tape and raced into his apartment, feeling his heart sink. The place had been ransacked. _Everything_ was ruined and he knew why. Clearly, Clovis had figured out that he and Padme were the ones who'd stolen the damning evidence against him. The goons had probably come to kill him as well as get the phone back.

But Anakin didn't give a shit about that. There was only one thing he cared about right now.

There was no point in calling out for her because he knew – he _knew_ – she was gone. But still, he did it anyway, praying to any god that might exist that she'd gotten out. "Padme?"

Of course, there was no answer.

He found the bodies in the kitchen and grimaced before moving to check the bedrooms. Just like the living room, everything was trashed. Anakin's gun was gone, papers and bills he'd left sitting on his desk were shredded and his bedding had been torn and cut, pillows halved and un-stuffed in their search. Padme's room was in the same state.

He had to get out of here. _Now._

Anakin rushed out of the apartment and barrelled into two cops who'd been about to enter. They shouted for him to come back as he ran down the hallway and to the stairs and distantly he heard them attempt to give chase. He was faster, pushing through the crowd and throwing himself into his car, burning rubber as he floored it and sped away. Once out of the mess on his street, Anakin slowed down a little and drove until he reached the dark outskirts of the city, finally skidding to a screeching stop, panting.

Leaning his head back against the seat, Anakin let everything process for a second. Clovis knew. He'd found out who Anakin was and sent men to his apartment… They'd found nothing, of course, but they'd taken Padme back to their boss.

 _Padme…_

Who knew how long ago they'd taken her? Long enough for a crowd to gather outside and for the police to be called in. Clovis' estate was only a ten-minute drive from Anakin's apartment.

She was probably already dead.

And if she wasn't, she would be soon.

 _I want you to slaughter every man, woman and child in that house._

Jabba's words whispered in his mind and Anakin felt his eyes burning. If Clovis didn't kill her then Jabba's men would… She was caught in the middle of a fucking _death trap_ and it was all his fault. Padme was going to die because of him. He should have made her leave… He shouldn't have been so fucking _selfish_ and fallen in love with her!

Anakin pounded his hands against the steering wheel and screamed.

He sat there for a long time, hating himself and wallowing in the hopelessness of it until something in him snapped. Anakin reached into the glove compartment and pulled out the shitty spare cell phone he kept in case of emergencies like this. Holding down the button, he switched it on and took a long, shaking breath.

There was only one number saved on the phone. One he hadn't called in a long, long time.

Knowing there was no other choice, Anakin dialled it.


	10. Chapter 10

_**A/N: I'll reply to the reviews on the last chapter tomorrow, I promise! I'm updating super early, I know, but my hen do/bachelorette party is this weekend and I'm going away with some friends. There won't be any time before then to edit so here we are!**_

 _ **Warning! This chapter features graphic violence, mentions of torture and graphic character death.**_

Padme had been her more than her fair share of traumatic life experiences. In fact, she'd probably been through a couple of people's share by now. She'd lost her both her parents in a violent car accident, been passed through the foster care system, separated from her sister to different homes and temporary families until a distant auntie on her mother's side offered to take them in. _That_ had only lasted until they turned eighteen and were promptly shown the door. It'd been hell but it was preferable to the things she'd seen in those foster homes. When she'd joined the force, it'd felt like finding a new family – a _real_ family. Dorme had been her sister as much as Sola was and suddenly it was like the tide of her life had turned _finally_ only to lose her new sister to a bloody end. She'd been raped and abused by a man who ruined lives every single day and somehow, _somehow,_ Padme survived. She'd found courage and clung to it like armour and so far, despite everything, she'd managed to keep it.

Until now.

As Padme blinked up at Rush Clovis' looming face above her she felt something she'd never felt once in her entire life – not even in her weakest, most broken moments.

Her resilience completely deserted her.

And the vicious smile that widened above her told her that he knew it.

"What?" He drawled cruelly, "not so feisty anymore?" Suddenly, Clovis grabbed a fistful of her hair and yanked her upwards so tightly that Padme felt some of it tear out at the roots, making her cry out. "What's the matter, Amidala? Don't like being back here in your old clothes? Don't like being back under my thumb?" His free hand smacked her hard on the cheek, no doubt adding a new bruise to the myriad of black and blue he'd created on her body since her return.

She said nothing and Clovis released her hair with a scoff, throwing her back to the ground as if she was nothing. In his eyes, that was _exactly_ what she was. Less than the dirt beneath his shoe. He turned as if to walk away but paused seemingly thinking better of it and delivered a brutal, unexpected kick that made her head crack against the floor as she landed. Padme winced and frowned, breathing harshly through her nose to make it passed the fresh wave of throbbing pain.

He heard and laughed gesturing at two of his men. "Tie her down."

They did as they were told, groping and grabbing at whatever parts of her they desired as they did so, wrapping rope around Padme's wrists and ankles and securing them to the newly installed bolts on the floor of Clovis' office. _Put here especially for her, he'd said._

Padme didn't fight the brutes as they manhandled her body – it would have been pointless anyway, she was tied down and couldn't move. She closed her eyes and tried to block it out, letting her imagination take her mind far, far away from this place. It was difficult at first but after a few moments she could almost pretend that she was back in Anakin's apartment finishing the dinner she'd been making as if nothing had changed… As if reality hadn't come crashing through the door with violent intent. He would have come home and told her how things went with Jabba… Told her their plan had been a success and it was over. She would have told him about the baby and everything could have been perfect.

It was a beautiful dream.

Distantly, Padme heard Clovis bark an order at his underlings and she felt the sting of another backhanded smack to her cheek. "Hey!" A deep voice grunted, "Hear that? Boss wants your eyes open, bitch." Pained and tired, she did as instructed and felt the warmth of the tears her eyelashes had been holding back slip freely.

"You," she heard Clovis speak again, "go get Fifth Brother. I want to introduce Amidala here to a new friend."

She'd heard that codename before… It pulled at something in the back of her mind – Fifth Brother… Oh. She knew what that name meant. Clovis had people he used to get his answers for him from unwilling prisoners, people who were masters of torture and manipulation. She could hear the excitement in his voice, this Fifth Brother person was being brought down here to hurt her but she just _couldn't_ bring herself to care anymore. What else could there be? She'd already been stripped and beaten, had the bullet wound in her leg aggravated, had Clovis' gun in her mouth amongst threats of it being put in other places and more forms of torture her mind was too tired and hurt to recall.

The skimpy lingerie the crime boss had dressed her up in was soiled with sweat and blood after _hours_ of it all.

Thanks to the digital clock on the small screen of the safe Padme could tell she'd been here for just over twenty-four hours now, during which she'd been assaulted in just about _every_ way she could fathom and so severely that the world seemed hazy… As if it was slipping away. She'd lost a lot of blood from her leg wound before arriving here and the abuse had only made things worse. Clovis had taken _everything_ from her in his attempts to crack her; even the last shreds of her dignity. After all this time, after everything… He'd finally broken her will.

Padme's eyelids felt slightly heavier with every passing moment. It would take a while but it wasn't difficult to understand that her body was succumbing to the abuse it'd suffered and slowly beginning to shut down. _I'm going to die here_ , she thought as more tears slid from the corner of her eyes to the floor. She didn't want to die… And knowing that she was wasn't easy to stomach. But… But if she did – _when_ she did… It would be all over.

Clovis couldn't hurt her anymore.

She would _finally_ be free…

It was just a flatline away.

Padme closed her eyes as a small sob shook her body.

"Ah, good, you're here," Clovis said.

She couldn't see the man he spoke to as he entered so she was forced to watch him as he sat down on his desk chair where he'd pulled it to better watch her torture. He crossed one leg over the other in an exaggerated display of leisure that would have made Padme roll her eyes in any other context. "This is Amidala." He flicked his wrist toward her, "she's a thief who stole something from me and is causing a lot of trouble. Even after my – and the boys' – generous hospitality, she's refused to give me any answers. Change her mind."

It was then that Padme got a real look at her new torturer as he stepped into her line of sight to peer down at her. He _looked_ like a monster. His skin was grey and ashen and his body was concealed beneath a thick dark coat and matching wide-brimmed hat. Her breath caught in her throat as new fear began to curl in her stomach.

His lifeless eyes looked over every inch of her before coming to his knees by her head with a twisted, giddy smile. "My pleasure."

From the corner of her eye, Padme noticed a black bag as he pulled it open and reached inside, withdrawing a pair of pliers. The man gave her another cold smile and caressed her cheek with the instrument before trailing their cold tips up the length of her arm and to her hands. Her breath quickened in fear and though she knew what was about to happen, it was difficult to call upon the same weightless resignation she'd felt before.

From where he lounged in his chair, Clovis asked the same questions he'd been asking since her arrival. "Now, where is the phone, Amidala? And where is the Hutt bodyguard?"

Closing her eyes again, she said nothing.

The phone was with Jabba if Anakin had kept his word. And she'd rather die on this cold floor than send Clovis' men to find Anakin. They'd kill him. He didn't deserve that – she was the one who'd dragged him into this mess so the least Padme could do now was protect him from the wrath her actions had created. Even if she'd suffer for it and she _would_ , she was going to protect Anakin with her life.

Suddenly, she felt the pliers pushed beneath the edge of her index fingernail.

"Okay then… Off we go."

And then she screamed.

* * *

Jabba stood on the white marble balcony on the upper level of the estate overlooking the courtyard, watching as Skywalker commanded the men quickly and efficiently, going over the plan of action so everyone understood what was to come. The bodyguard was standing before the men Jabba had hired both with both hands clasped behind his back, giving out orders with the ease of practised commanding officer and it was easy to see the respect the men gave him.

It made the Hutt's frown deepen. Since their meeting where this plan was discussed something had been nagging at him, whispering suspicions in his ear. The scene before his eyes now confirmed those suspicions.

The bodyguard was not who he claimed to be.

Jabba had known that the boy was lying in their meeting about his acquisition of the phone and who'd he'd gotten it from and now he assumed command over the men like it was a suit he'd been donning for years. Something wasn't right. To make matters worse, Skywalker had been an hour late for this most important day and while he'd given the valid excuse of his apartment being ransacked, he was not convinced. Young Skywalker was hiding something from him and _that_ would not be tolerated.

Of course, in this world, Jabba understood men who kept their cards close to their chest and had secrets but he wouldn't allow men like that in his household – especially one so close to his family, his only heir. Something needed to be done about Skywalker and soon. Rotta would have to learn to cope without him.

"Dad?" The voice of his disappointing son caught Jabba's attention. As if the idiot had heard his thoughts, the boy appeared in the doorway as the kingpin turned around.

"What?" He spoke quietly, voice still pained after so much talking with Skywalker. "We're busy making preparations – there's no time for your stupid problems." Had he knocked another girl up somewhere and needed money to take care of it? Had he lost another small fortune in a wager? Jabba had no energy for it today. These things could wait until Clovis was dealt with.

The boy seemed to hesitate a moment before stepping further into the room. "I want to come with you. I want this chance to prove myself. Let me be there when you crush him."

It was brave of him to show his face in here and ask. Jabba felt the smallest twinge of pride for his son for the first time. "No." He rasped. "You'll stay here with your mother and sisters."

" _What_?" The boy cried. "But – but dad! Tolas was my brother, I want to avenge him as much as you do. It's my right!"

" _Rotta!_ " Jabba snarled as loudly as his vocal cords were capable of. "You're the heir of this family – my only living son. What would happen if Clovis kills us too? Our name and house would fall and what would happen to your mother and sisters? Stop being so _selfish_ and think of the family. Get out of my sight."

He turned his back on the boy and looked down as the men prepared themselves. Guns and ammunition were being handed out in spades; Jabba had spared no expense for this. He could hear Rotta's footsteps as he made his way out of the room and sighed. _If only Tolas had lived..._

But he hadn't lived because Rush Clovis had his men kill Jabba's boy. _That_ was what this was about. The Hutt name would live on through Rotta and his future children but Clovis' name would not.

Jabba's narrow eyes landed on Anakin again and lingered. Too much about him was unknown, he was too shrouded in mystery and his actions of late had raised too many red flags to be ignored. That was that, then. His decision was made.

When all was said and done, when Clovis and his brood were dead, Anakin would join them.

* * *

She'd been alone for a while but she wasn't sure how long. Padme didn't have the strength to lift her gaze to the safe's screen again. It was strangely quiet for once as she lay bleeding on Clovis' office floor. Her right hand was throbbing with pain as was the back of her head where Clovis had made her hit it, her leg ached beyond what she'd thought was possible and her ribs hurt from where she'd been kicked repeatedly. It all blended together into one giant ache. Initially, it'd been agony but slowly it everything was growing numb… As if her body's pain receptors had been shredded from overuse and given up.

They weren't alone in that.

Despite _everything_ Clovis, his men and his torturer had done to her, she hadn't told them anything. It was her one victory over him… Padme would take her secrets to the grave where he couldn't touch her anymore. Anakin would be safe… He could have a life without the trouble she'd brought him. Maybe he'd even heed her words and get out while he still could.

It could be her parting gift to him…

With what felt like every ounce of her strength, Padme peeled open her eyes and lifted her bloodied hand, Clovis' friend had cut her wrists free for better access, and brought it to her stomach, smearing the warmth of her blood across the skin. Everything she was suffering, her pain, her fear, her inevitable death… The baby suffered it all too. The guilt that brought her was crushing. How much had it felt? She'd been kicked – did that hurt it? _Oh god,_ she hoped it didn't suffer.

"I'm sorry…" Padme whispered hoarsely and pressed her palm to her stomach. "I would have liked to meet you…"

Her voice trailed off and she felt tears fill her eyes again. What might it have been? She'd thought about that once or twice through the torture, letting her mind get lost in beautiful imaginings that would never come to pass. She could see a perfect little blue-eyed boy, see his smile, hear his laugh… It made her heart ache beyond words. _He didn't even have a chance._

Now, Clovis really _had_ taken everything from her.

Her freedom.

Her value.

Her purpose.

Her body.

Her baby.

Her life.

The office door swung open suddenly as her head began to tilt to the side and consciousness was fading. Her small, fleeting bubble of serenity was burst. It was more of the same, no doubt, everything she'd suffered to be repeated until her body simply gave up. She let her eyes fall shut again in resignation until a small female voice broke through the silence.

"Please let me go! _Please_. I – I'll be good, I promise, just – just please don't."

At that, Padme's eyes snapped open again and she found the strength to push herself up on her forearms, watching on in horror as Clovis' marched back into the room with his torturer and a trembling Ahsoka.

 _No, no, not her! Please, not her._

Clovis wore a smug grin as he looked down into Padme's eyes. "I hope you enjoyed your little rest, Amidala. I thought while you're here it would be fun to reunite you with an old friend."

The shaking girl met her eyes and she watched her young face crumble. "Amidala? Oh, Amidala, I'm so sorry…"

Her heart twisted in her chest but she couldn't risk saying anything.

"Still not feeling talkative, hmm?" Clovis drawled. "Well, I'm going to see if we can't change your mind." With that, he gave his friend a nod and the monster shoved Ahsoka to the floor. The young girl gasped and landed on her hands and knees but the man gave her no time to recover, bringing down his boot into her spine roughly, making her cry out in pain and terror.

Padme's chest filled with rage and guilt as she watched the assault, helpless against the ropes that held the lower half of her body down. _Why was this happening? Hadn't he taken enough from her?_

"Where did you hide the phone, Amidala?" Clovis hissed. " _Where_ is the goddamned bodyguard?"

She raised her eyes from Ahsoka's suffering to meet his and managed to snarl. "Go to hell, Rush."

Clovis smirked and gave a half-nod to Fifth Brother who brought down a series of swift and painful kicks to Ahsoka's ribs as she screamed.

"Stop!" Padme cried, "stop it! She has nothing to do with this!"

He didn't blink. "Then give me my information."

What was she supposed to do? She _couldn't_ tell them about Anakin; it would be as good as pulling the trigger on him herself. But something had to give – she couldn't let Ahsoka die for her mistakes. Maybe Anakin had come through and Jabba was preparing an attack against Clovis to get retribution? If that was true, then maybe she could tell Clovis something, just a little something to secure mercy for Ahsoka. She wouldn't tell him where Anakin had gone or that he was the one who'd delivered the phone to Jabba. He had to be safe.

"Okay! Okay!" She squeezed her eyes shut. "I'll tell you – just leave her alone!"

"Well? I'm waiting?" Clovis sat back down in his seat as Padme's mouth opened and then shut again. Had she bought Anakin enough time? If she hadn't and she told Clovis about the phone, he might gather a counterattack against the Hutts too quickly. A gang war would still happen but not the way they'd planned… _What if he gets caught in the middle of it? He could die._ No, no she had to believe in him and that he'd been successful.

Her hesitation earned Ahsoka another nasty kick to the ribs and Padme heard a sickening _crack_ followed by Ahsoka's howl of agony.

She swallowed. "I – the bodyguard only helped me get out of the mansion. I don't know him that well. But I… I gave the phone to Jabba's son and told him everything. Which means it's likely Jabba knows everything. You're _dead_ , Clovis."

He roared in anger and threw himself out of his chair, pulling the dangerously sharp blade strapped to his leg free of its holster and fell to one knee beside Padme, pointing it at her face. " _Don't_ get smug with me, you whore!" His fist found her hair again and tugged, forcing her head back and exposing her throat. "I should just slit your throat now and get it over with! Or maybe I should slice up that pretty face?" He slid the edge of the blade along her shoulder, cutting the skin until Padme shrieked. He released her and stood straight once more. "Get the girl on her feet."

Her own pain forgotten, Padme's eyes widened. "Wait – wait! I gave you what you wanted, I told you the truth!"

Tears wet Ahsoka's cheeks as she was dragged to her feet once more. "Amidala," she whimpered, " _please_ …"

She reached down and began pulling at the rope, it was sloppily done and she was _sure_ she could pull it loose enough, but there was no time. "Leave her alone! Please!"

Clovis looked over his shoulder at Padme as he pressed the bloody blade against Ahsoka's throat and just as she got one part of the rope loose enough to slide her foot out, he sliced across the girl's throat in one clean motion.

Padme screamed and a moment later Ahsoka fell limp in the man's arms, eyes lifeless as blood spilled its way down her throat. Clovis' man dropped her body to the floor with a humoured grunt and leaned back against the desk. She couldn't breathe. She – Ahsoka… _She'd promised she was going to make Clovis pay!_ Broken sobs tore through Padme's body as she looked down at the young girl boneless on the floor. It wasn't fair – it _wasn't_ fair! This was all her fault. She should have protected Ahsoka; she should have taken her away with them at the party!

Suddenly, Clovis pulled at her hair and pressed the blade against Padme's throat again. She felt the warm smear of Ahsoka's blood against her skin and mustered every ounce of hatred she felt toward Clovis into her eyes. "Alright, slut, your turn." He glared back at her.

Just as he began to apply pressure against the blade to her skin, the office door swung open and Padme recognised one of the men who'd abducted her from Anakin's apartment. He was panting and sweating, panicked by something. "Sir! Sorry to interrupt but we – we're under attack!"

Clovis reeled and stood, releasing her. " _What_?"

"It's the Hutts, sir! They're here. And they're armed. Heavily."

"Fuck!" He cried. "Damn it! Okay. You," he pointed at the man in the doorway, "round everyone up and call for my car! Get Emily and the children safely inside. And You!" Clovis' finger pointed to his friend. "Kill the whore and make it hurt."

With that, he stormed from the room leaving Padme alone with her torturer.

* * *

Clovis couldn't _believe_ how quickly everything had turned to shit.

His outside guards were all dead and the sounds of screams and bullets rang around the mansion from every direction. A quick way out was through the kitchen and he tore open the service door before freezing and gasping. It'd been a massacre. Bodies and blood were _everywhere_. Slamming the door shut, Rush bolted toward the stairs. Maybe there was still some security up there he could rely upon to –

He reached the top and heard the wail of a female voice. " _Please!_ Jabba, I don't know what this is about but please don't do this!" Emily! Alarm rang in his mind and he felt himself beginning to sweat. Suddenly, her voice rose in pitch and desperation, "Jabba! Please, not the children!"

Two shots sounded and Clovis fell to his knees.

 _Fuck you, Jabba._

Rage made him see red and as he stood straight again he heard the scream of his wife and another shot.

He had to get out of here.

Turning on his heel, he began to run. _He shouldn't have stopped at Tolas. He should have killed every fucking Hutt in this city and had done with it!_ Still reeling from the loss of Emily and their children, Clovis barged back into his office. There was no other option now, he'd have to use the torturer as protection until he could get in a car and get the hell away from here.

Clovis paused two steps into his office. He'd been expecting to see Amidala sprawled out, dead, and preferably in a pool of her own blood not his torturer laid out in _exactly_ that way.

The door slammed shut behind him and only then did it occur to him that Amidala wasn't tied to the floor any longer.

Something hard slammed into the back of his head, sending Clovis flying to the floor right beside the body of the young whore. Blood drenched his hands and shirt but he didn't have a moment to feel disgusted before Amidala was on him, surprising him with a strength he'd had no idea she possessed. Somehow, she'd gotten a hold of one of Fifth Brother's blades and brought it slamming down, intending to pierce his skin, but he was faster, grabbing at her wrists to keep her attack away.

Thinking fast, he clawed at her face, digging his blunt nails into the delicate flesh of her cheek and dragging, leaving angry red trails in his wake. She hissed but endured to his horror and wrestled her wrist free enough to point the sharp tip of the knife to his throat making Clovis freeze. For the first time, he looked into her dark eyes properly and felt fear coil in his stomach. They were glazed over slightly but full of rage and danger.

"Stay still," she hissed, "you're not going anywhere."

"You crazy cunt!" Clovis bared his teeth at her. It would be so easy to reach up and push her body off him but if he'd learned anything about her it was how fast she was. One slip up and she'd slit his fucking throat. So he stayed still and settled for glaring. "Do you really think you're getting out of here alive? If Jabba will kill my damned kitchen staff, he'll kill the sluts like you down here too. You don't have a chance."

"I'm not afraid to die." She muttered quietly. Then, without hesitation, she brought the blade down hard into his chest. Clovis gurgled on blood and panicked.

* * *

" _That_ was for Ahsoka," Padme murmured and closed her tired eyes for a moment, sickened at the spray of his blood on her face. Fury and revenge drove her actions, guided her brain and locked away any mercy or logic. For once, she was ruled by her emotions and it felt _freeing_. Her body was fuelled by pure adrenaline and part of her worried about what would happen when it ran out. For now though, there was something more important occupying Padme's thoughts.

She didn't think anymore, focussing on everything Clovis had done to her, every rape, every beating, every one of the girls whose lives he ruined… Dorme, Ahsoka, her child… This man had singlehandedly ruined her life in every imaginable way. Now he was going to pay for it. Padme brought the knife down again which made him scream, a bloody howl of pain the darker parts of her savoured. " _That_ was for Dorme."

When the knife pierced his heart he barely grunted. It wasn't the first time she'd watched the life drain from someone's eyes but it was the first time it'd felt like _freedom_. Her voice trembled as she spoke barely above a whisper, the words tumbling from between her lips, "and this… _This_ is for me."

A moment passed and Rush Clovis was dead.

She took a long, steadying breath and rolled off of the corpse.

Just like she thought, the adrenaline was beginning to fade and her limbs were getting heavier and heavier. Clovis was right about one thing, if she stayed here, she _would_ die whether from blood loss or Jabba's men. But if she got out… She could have a chance. But how?

She still had Clovis' blade but that wasn't enough. But what…? Yes! His Glock! It took more effort than it would have any other time to roll his body over enough to spot the black gun sitting in the holster. _Yes_! The moment she had it in her hand, she'd be a lot safer and then –

The office door swung open and suddenly Padme was face to face with someone she'd never imagined she would be.

The king of the Hutt clan himself.

Jabba.

The overweight, bald man stepped into the room and looked between Clovis' corpse and Padme with an expression of profound confusion and surprise. And then, his eyes narrowed dangerously. "You. Did you do this?"

She nodded and then paled as two Hutt men stepped into the room from behind their leader. The first, she didn't recognise but the second…

 _Anakin._

The moment their eyes met, Jabba spoke again, quiet and rasping, "I don't know what happened in here. I'm sure you had your reasons for killing him… But you've robbed me of my revenge." An edge of authority hardened his tone. "Kit. Anakin."

Wordlessly, _both_ men aimed their already drawn guns at her.

The betrayal hit Padme harder than she could have possibly imagined as she looked into the barrel of the gun Anakin had aimed at her. His face was impassive, expressionless, nothing like the man she thought she'd known.

 _How could she have been so stupid?_

"Hold," Jabba ordered quietly. He drew his own gun and aimed it at Padme's head. "I'll take this one. Killing her is as close as I'll get to killing Clovis now."

This was it. This was the end. She was dead and she knew it. But maybe – maybe if she was fast, Padme could take Jabba out with her. Maybe she could end both heads of the underworld families before she died. There was _nothing_ left to lose so she scrambled forward and reached for Clovis' gun, her palm closed around it –

But she was too late.

The shot was fired before she pulled it free.


	11. Chapter 11

Everything happened in the blinked of an eye.

The gunshot rang out and as Padme braced herself for blinding pain of her end, she heard Jabba the infamous Hutt give a surprised gasp before slumping to the floor. Eyes snapping open, she saw Jabba's other man, Kit, turn around, startled before two more shots fired out. As it happened she frantically pulled at Clovis' gun until _finally_ it came loose from its holster. By the time she held it up, hands trembling as she flicked off the safety catch, there was only one man left standing in the doorway.

 _Anakin_.

Jabba was dead on the floor, laying – much like the other bodies in the room – in a puddle of his own blood as it flowed forward and mixed with that of Ahsoka, Clovis and his torturer's. The site was vile and if she'd had the energy, Padme might have vomited. Whatever violent burst of adrenaline that'd fuelled her attack on Fifth Brother and Clovis was gone, leaving her body spent and heavy to manoeuvre. It was an effort to drag her gaze to the fallen body of Kit where he'd taken a bullet between his eyes and then higher to Anakin as he held a hand over a bleeding shoulder. He was in pain and visibly so but that didn't stop him from meeting Padme's eyes and dropping his gun to the floor with a clatter, kicking it toward her.

All around them was _carnage_ but suddenly he was all Padme could see. She didn't know whether to feel relief or fear or blazing anger at what'd just happened.

Slowly, she lowered the gun she'd aimed at him and gaped. "You… You killed him…" She whispered dryly, "You killed your boss – _Jabba!_ "

Anakin nodded and removed his palm from his shoulder, inspecting the blood on his skin before returning it with a hiss. "You killed Clovis." His distant blue gaze moved to the remains of Padme's abuser where he lay lifeless. After a moment, his emotionless mask seemed to crumble before her eyes as he took a hesitant step forward, eyes full of pain and concern. "I'm sorry, Padme… God, I'm _so sorry_. I did everything I could to get you out – even called in a few favours I'm owed but I – I – there was no way to extract you." Her breath caught in her throat as Anakin looked close to tears suddenly, "I really did try, Padme, I promise you."

He was emotional, that much she could understand but his apology didn't make sense to Padme. She felt weak and tired and her brain was taking too long to register simple things. Still, she managed to shake her head despite the nausea the small action brought. "No… No, it's not your fault. I never thought you could… I never _expected_ you to save me."

Truthfully, she thought she'd never see him again.

Anakin came closer and it was easy to see the look of _devastation_ that came across his face. " _What_? You – you thought I'd leave you here to… You really thought I would just let Clovis kill you?" He scoffed and rubbed a hand over his face. "Fuck, maybe I do hide my feelings well…"

She felt stricken but her brain was too tired and slow to create the words she wanted to say. Her eyes fell shut and it was a great effort to prize them open again. She was so tired… _All_ she wanted to do was sleep but some deep instinct whispered to fight it, to stay _awake_ no matter what. Padme wasn't sure how much longer she could keep up the effort at this rate. "Anakin, no… I just…"

"It's alright." He interrupted, "I'd probably think the same in your position." Padme's eyes fell shut again and her shoulders began to slump until a warm hand grabbed her wrist and shocked them open again. "C'mon, we need to get you out of here." Carefully, Anakin hauled her to her feet and slung her arm over his shoulder to carry her weight. She let herself be moved, too weak to protest or pull away. Her head slumped against his shoulder and her eyes began to drift shut once again. "Hey, hey!" Anakin nudged her gently with his shoulder, "listen to me, you need to stay awake, okay? Just keep your eyes open for me."

 _That's a lot to ask right now,_ she thought. It was so difficult. She'd _never_ felt tiredness like this before in her life. Nothing had ever been more tempting than nuzzling into Anakin's shoulder, inhaling his familiar scent as she drifted off to sleep… It would be so easy…

" _Padme,_ " vaguely, she registered the tone of desperation that'd seeped into his tone, "come on, keep your eyes open. I _promise_ you're gonna be alright, but keep your eyes open for me. We're going to get into my car and I'll get you somewhere safe."

No… " _Can't_ …" The word was beyond difficult to force past her lips, "Anakin, I… I can't go out like this…" She was in the underwear Clovis had dressed her in, wounded and _covered_ in blood that wasn't all her own. If someone out there saw her like this it'd cause some kind of trouble. Especially if they were spotted leaving the room Jabba's body would be discovered in.

" _Shit._ " He cursed. "You're right. Okay – okay… Just sit here for a second." Padme felt herself being lowered into the chair Clovis had watched her suffering from and couldn't find the strength to lift her head. From her low vantage point, she could just about make out Anakin kneeling over his murdered comrade, quickly unbuttoning his shirt. "This isn't the greatest but it's sure as hell better than what you're wearing now."

"I don't understand." Padme forced the words out. She _needed_ to know the answers to the questions buzzing in her brain. " _Why_? You… You risked your _life_ for me…" She rasped, "killed Jabba and… And took a bullet… Why? I'm just his whore." Her arm was heavy as she lifted it to gesture weakly at where the head of the Clovis' family was dead.

" _Don't_ say that!" Anakin hissed, disgust etched into his handsome features, "don't you ever say that again!" Pausing his task, he reached up and cupped Padme's unwounded cheek in his warm hand and she leaned closer as best she could. "You're _so much_ more than that, Padme…You – you're…" He sighed and shook his head. "Never mind, we don't have time for this now." Just as quickly as he'd come close, Anakin was gone again, leaving Padme cold.

She opened her mouth to speak but a startled gasp from the doorway caught her attention instead. Padme dragged her gaze up the man whose eyes were wide with horror and surprise as he gazed at Jabba's body. She didn't recognise him which meant he probably wasn't one of Clovis' men.

" _What the…_ Dad, _no_!" The man cried and Padme's stomach sank.

 _Rotta Hutt._

The young Hutt heir's name came to her immediately just as he pulled a silver gun on her. " _You!_ " He bellowed, "Did _you_ do this, _slut_? Did you murder my father?" He screamed the furious words at the top of his lungs, cursing Padme and yelling the hell he'd bring her in retribution. She barely heard any of it but what she _did_ hear was the safety turning off the weapon Rotta had aimed right at her. She had to do something and do it fast before he shot her. Vaguely, Padme could hear Anakin's voice but couldn't make out his words despite their close proximity. That didn't matter though because whatever he said was a subline distraction.

The gun Anakin had kicked across the room earlier sat temptingly at Padme's feet. If she could just reach it and pull the trigger, Rotta would die saving her and Anakin from his wrath. And if the Hutt heir died, it would throw their entire criminal empire into chaos and _that_ would be all the police needed to take them down once and for all. It was all right there for the taking… She just had to reach it…

Padme stretched out her arm, reaching, stretching, gritting her teeth against the weakness of her limbs until her fingertips grazed the cold metal of the gun. After a moment, her fingers wrapped around the barrel and hoisted the weapon up into her grasp.

Rotta noticed too late and by the time he'd pointed his gun at Padme again she'd already taken aim at the Hutt heir, ready to fire. One shot and everything would be over. It was _so close_. Her finger pushed back on the trigger, squeezing it until the weapon trembled and fired.

"No!" Anakin cried and dove forward, shoving Rotta out of the way of Padme's bullet and to the floor with a hard _thump_. He landed above the younger boy, shielding the Hutt's body with his own as the bullet that was meant for his head tore through the wall instead.

Padme watched it happening, dropping the gun to the floor in shock. Too stunned to move, she could only gape at what she saw as it all tumbled down around her.

Anakin pushed himself up and off Rotta with a grunt as Jabba's son leapt to his feet, seething. "You _bitch!"_ He rounded on Padme again, his face wild and _livid._ "You murder my father and then shoot at _me_? I'm going to _fucking kill you_!" The last few words were a blinding scream and once more Padme was forced to look down the barrel of Rotta's gun.

Her eyes widened as she saw Anakin move, raising his arm and suddenly, Rotta Hutt fell to the ground with a surprised grunt, knocked unconscious by the butt of his bodyguard's gun. Padme could only look at him, stunned, and tremble as everything she'd been so certain of before crumbled.

 _He took you in._

 _He saved your life._

 _He treated you with kindness._

 _He was tender._

 _He killed Jabba the Hutt to save your life._

Everything eroded in Padme's mind as she processed all that'd happened. All the ways Anakin had proved to her that he was different, everything that'd made her believe he was better, not like these terrible people she'd been surrounded by, the things that'd made her fall in love with him, _all_ of it was destroyed by the fact that in the heat of the moment, he'd chosen to _protect_ the heir to the Hutt family. _Why would he do that_? She didn't understand… He – he was supposed to be different than the rest of them. Anakin was her protector; he was gentle and kind… But when it came down to it, he'd chosen Rotta.

The betrayal made Padme's eyes burn.

" _How could you_?" She hissed.

Anakin's face fell back into the impassive mask he'd entered the room wearing. "I can't explain, Padme." Turning his back to her, he pulled the office door shut to ward off any more interruptions and slid his gun back into its holster. She could only watch as the bodyguard leaned down to hoist the Hutt heir's limp body over his shoulders and stand straight again with a grunt of exertion. He opened his mouth to speak again when suddenly, there were new sounds echoing through the estate. Bumping and shouting and the march of heavy boots on the expensive flooring.

The shouting grew louder followed by coughing and hacking.

Anakin obviously heard the sounds too. "Fucking _finally."_ He muttered, eyes on the ceiling above them. After a moment his blue gaze fell back down to meet Padme's, full of longing and regret she couldn't understand right now. "I wish it didn't have to be this way, Padme…" He swallowed, "I – you don't know how _much_ I wish it could be different. Look, they're on your side, alright? Just wait here."

" _They_?" Padme spluttered, "who's they? Who's here, Anakin?" With more than a little effort she pulled herself to her feet, wobbling and almost dropping straight to her knees as she reached down to retrieve the gun. "Why should I trust _anything_ you say?"

He had the boldness to look hurt. "I saved your life."

Padme shook her head, "you saved _his_ too!" She gestured at Rotta with the gun. It wasn't enough, there had to be more, something she could cling to and believe enough to restore her faith in him. Her shoulders heaved as she held back a sob. "Anakin…I believed in you! I trusted you and now – now _this_? I don't understand…"

"Padme," his voice cracked on her name as his eyes pleaded silently with hers, "trust me, _please_ … Just this one last time… I _promise_ you everything will be okay."

The footsteps were closer now, mere seconds away at best.

Despite this, Padme was rooted to the spot, party from the sheer exhaustion and partly because his words had torn her in two. _Could_ she trust him? _Should_ she? But Anakin didn't share her immobility, turning his back on Padme and heading to the back door of the office she'd never been through before clearly intent on fleeing the scene with Rotta.

The betrayal hit her anew and her mind was swimming with both trying to sleep and stay awake at once. _He was just going to leave her here?_ He was abandoning her like everything they'd done; everything they'd _been through_ had meant _nothing_ to him?

Maybe it did.

That thought drove the gun in Padme's hand upwards, aiming at the man who'd betrayed the last of her trust and left it in tatters. "Stop, Anakin!" She cried, "stop right there!"

The Hutt bodyguard froze and then turned to face her again, his expression souring as he looked at the gun in her hands. "Let me go, Padme."

"I can't." She shook her head. The police officer inside of her was screaming. "If I do this will _never_ end."

Anakin dared one step closer to her. "I _promise_ you it will but only _if_ you let me go."

Suddenly, there was a crash as the door to the room next to theirs was kicked in.

His eyes left hers and flicked to the doorway for a moment. "Padme, I have to go…"

" _No_!" She grit her teeth. Her mind was a mess. She didn't want to hurt Anakin but she couldn't let him leave with Rotta Hutt either. It was her _job_ as an officer to make sure neither of them got away but no matter what she _couldn't_ pull the trigger the way she'd been trained to do.

Everything she'd been afraid of, everything her superiors had warned and _warned_ her about in training had finally happened.

She was completely and utterly _compromised._

"Anakin," she muttered, "I – I don't…"

His eyes were blazing as they met hers and his voice was strong and unwavering. " _Stand down,_ Agent Naberrie!"

Padme's eyes widened in shock. " _You knew_?" She gasped.

Anakin simply looked back at her, face unreadable.

 _He knew who you are… And he helped you anyway…_

Padme dropped the gun with a clatter.

The bodyguard didn't waste his reprieve, the moment her weapon wasn't trained on him he disappeared out of the back door with the unconscious Hutt heir in tow. He was _gone_. Anakin had left her behind in favour of his boss and she couldn't bear the hurt, closing her eyes tight as it felt like her heart might split in her chest.

It only lasted a moment before she had more important things to worry about. Suddenly, the new arrivals were behind the office door with shouts she couldn't comprehend and telling _bangs_ that meant they were kicking the door down to get inside. There was no other option. She kicked the gun across the room and shakily raised her hands above her head in surrender. Padme had arrested enough people in raids to know what to do by now.

That was _if_ the people behind the door were who she thought they were.

The door came down with a heavy _boom_ and smoke filled the room before the men did. She couldn't see a thing and without the protective gear she would have worn in situations like these, she began to choke as the grey cloud filled her lungs. Coughing, Padme felt to her knees and struggled to keep her eyes open. Everything came upon her at once… Clovis' torture, the bullet in her leg, Ahsoka's death, Anakin's betrayal…

The world began to dim before her eyes, fading away faster than she could focus on it and honestly, she was glad to let it happen.

As Padme's eyes fell shut for the last time, Anakin's mother's words filled her mind.

 _Don't look back_ …

* * *

Obi-wan sighed, powering off his computer and looked over at the mammoth tower of files and paperwork awaiting his attention. He'd pushed through a countless amount already but had barely made a dent in the work that needed to be done. He knew that he _should_ continue on but tomorrow was a new day where perhaps his eyes weren't bleary and his head wasn't throbbing with the beginnings of a migraine. How long had he been here for? His blue eyes flicked up to the clock hanging on the wall and almost leapt from his seat. Sweet mercy! _Eleven hours_! He'd been behind the desk for eleven hours?!

Obi-wan sighed and ran a hand through his auburn hair. Just as he was about to stand a voice buzzed through his intercom.

" _Mr Kenobi?"_ The voice of the station's secretary rung out.

Grimacing, he pressed down onto the receiver. "Yes, Jocasta?"

It was a sin that he'd kept the elderly woman here as long as he had. Truthfully, Obi-wan had forgotten there was anyone other than the officers on the night shift in the station. Usually, Jocasta would clock out when he did, when all the meetings had been taken and the paperwork left over was for the night shifters to complete and file. These past days had been far from _usual,_ however.

" _There's someone here to see you, sir. He says you have a meeting but of course, there are never any scheduled this late! I can ask him to leave and come back tomorrow if you prefer?"_

Obi-wan leaned back heavier in his chair and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Did he give you a name?"

" _No, sir. I asked of course, but he told me, ahem, to mind my own business. He seems like… Like the type who are brought in here in cuffs, usually."_

At that, the corners of the man's lips quirked up. Sweet woman… He would have enjoyed watching _that_ conversation taking place outside. Still, he had his own conversation to take part in now. "Don't worry about it. Send him in and go home, Jocasta. Have a good night."

" _Oh, sir, are you sure?"_ The secretary sounded concerned.

"Yes." Obi-wan repeated, "I'll see you in the morning."

The intercom connection died and Obi-wan fought back a yawn. What a long day it'd been… His body ached for rest but there was too big of a clean-up taking place at the moment. The press were hounding them for statements, the DA was breathing down his neck and the city was a mess of worry and relief. It felt as if everyone was holding their breath waiting for the fallout of that day. Rush Clovis was dead and his entire faction had been wiped out but the Hutts hadn't gotten out of the brief war unscathed either. Their leader, Jabba, was dead. The entire criminal underworld seemed to have collapsed in on itself after the attack. Was it only a matter of time before another family rose from the ashes? Obi-wan wasn't naive enough to believe the city was clean. It would _never_ be clean.

A few moments later, his office door swung open without a cursory knock and Obi-wan wouldn't have expected anything else.

"Anakin." He greeted warmly, keen eyes lingering on the bandage only just visible from the edge of the black t-shirt he wore. "I wasn't expecting you until tomorrow."

The blonde man stopped behind the visitor chairs and rested his palms on the green cushioned material. "I had time tonight… Thought it would be a good idea to drop in."

Obi-wan raised an eyebrow curiously and waited, sensing there was more.

After a moment, Anakin continued. "I convinced Rotta to take time away to recover from the ordeal in the family's country house. He took his mother and siblings with him… The mansion is empty for now."

"I see." He stroked at his beard and let the other man's words sink in. If the Hutt heir – the kingpin to be – had fled the city, however temporarily, it would explain the quiet from the city gangs. They were still in turmoil with a grieving boy-king and empires under scrutiny. "Why don't you sit down?"

Anakin shook his head. "I'd prefer to stand… But thanks."

Suddenly, there was silence between the two men and Obi-wan allowed it to linger. He was sure Anakin had many thoughts to sort through before voicing them and at the end of the day, Obi-wan was here to listen, not to talk. How much talking could the man behind the desk afford to do after all? Finally, the younger man's blue eyes reluctantly lifted from where they were burning a hole in the carpet to meet his own eyes.

"… How is she?" He mumbled.

Sheepish was not a look he'd seen on the blonde's face before and it was surprising. Still, he'd suspected that Anakin would ask about her but hadn't anticipated that it would come _this_ early into the conversation. "Healing." He said simply, "there was… There was a lot of damage."

Anakin shot him a dark look. "And whose fault is that?" He snarled. "I called you! I _told_ you he'd taken her and I asked – fuck, I _begged_ you to get her out before all that shit went down, Obi-wan!"

He steeled himself against the onslaught of Anakin's anger. Everything he said, Obi-wan had thought himself many times over. Guilt weighed heavily on his conscious as it had every moment since he'd taken that call. But he'd had to make a decision… After considering the options he'd made the choice that was for the best overall. The safety of one agent couldn't be placed above the mission… It wasn't easy but these things never were.

"You risked a great deal by doing that." He said quietly.

If looks could kill he feared his heart would have stopped beating as Anakin glared at him. "And it was for _nothing._ You did jack shit to save her."

"Anakin," Obi-wan sighed tiredly, "the timing was too risky and you know it. If I'd sent an extraction team for Padme and the Hutts caught wind of it, they might have called off their attack on the Clovis estate altogether. We _needed_ this war to happen. My hands were tied."

Anakin cut in with a furious scoff. "It doesn't count if you tie yourself up. _You're_ in charge around here, you make the rules. You could have done something."

Obi-wan shut his eyes shamefully. "Yes. I could." And he'd have to live with that for the rest of his days… Along with the losses of other promising agents under the banner of the very same mission. But Padme was alive. She was strong and she'd lived. Things were different this time. "You understand that burden, Anakin."

After a moment, he heard the other man sigh and opened his eyes to see him falling heavily into a chair. "Yeah, I do. I'm sorry… You know I respect what you do, Obi-wan, I just…" Suddenly, Obi-wan was grateful to already be sitting down. He'd _never_ heard words like that leave Anakin's mouth before. He watched him sigh and shake his head gravely. "It's just… We've had to let so many agents die. Too fucking many. All this time I've had to stand back and watch it happen and see them meet their fates but this time… With Padme, I – I just _couldn't._ Even I have my breaking point with all this."

Anakin looked tired and aged beyond his years in a way Obi-wan hadn't noticed before. It hurt his heart to see. He cared about Agent Naberrie – Padme – and deeply too, it seemed. If it hadn't already been obvious enough, seeing Anakin calling him in a desperate outburst which was exceedingly out of character sealed it.

And _that_ was exactly why Obi-wan had arranged this meeting in the first place.

"Listen, when Padme is discharged from the hospital I'm taking her out of active duty permanently." Obi-wan said, "Truthfully, I should have pulled her weeks ago when she made contact after Dorme's death but I admit I was too determined to finish the mission… I risked her life for it." He admitted shamefully. "But that's what she wanted too. She's almost as stubborn and determined as you. And I knew that if she set her mind to it, she'd be successful so I – I decided to let events play out. But now Rotta Hutt has seen her face and blames her for his father's death, she can't work in the field anymore."

"Even if he didn't see her," Anakin interjected, "you'd still have to pull her. She's been through so much and…" He gave a wry smile, "I think she's about as okay as I am."

Obi-wan frowned. "Anakin, about that – "

The taller man lifted his eyes, gaze wary.

"I think it's time to pull you out too." Anakin gave a long sigh and nodded in a way that told Obi-wan he'd been expecting the conversation to take this turn. But he didn't say anything so he continued, "You've been undercover with the Hutts for five years, Anakin, that's more than a long time. It's a _lifetime_. You've devoted yourself to bringing down the Hutts and you've been very successful in doing so. I think it's time to retire your cover for good."

"No." Anakin shot up out of his seat, "You're right, five years is a lifetime. I've given up _everything_ to see this through – even my damn humanity sometimes. It's been more than I can – " he stopped to take a calming breath. Obi-wan could see his hands trembling from where he was sitting. He'd never seen his colleague in this state before and it was a little shocking. "For years, I felt like I was getting nowhere and then Rotta was the heir and Jabba made me his keeper and suddenly I was able to access the higher ups more. I proved myself to Jabba and earned the branding. _That's_ when I knew I had a shot. And then Padme walked into the mess and propelled everything into motion. I owe her _so much,_ Obi-wan."

He didn't miss the note of admiration that'd slipped into his agent's voice but he kept quiet to hear Anakin out.

"Padme basically ended the Clovis line singlehandedly and I got to put an end to Jabba."

At this, Obi-wan _had_ to cut in. "And yet you spared Rotta."

"Yes." He didn't hesitate. "Obi-wan I know how this family works. Hell, I've _become_ one of them. If I'd let Padme kill Rotta then Jabba's uncle Ziro would take over and he's a crazy son of a bitch. It would have been more of the same… As if nothing changed. New faces, same game. But Rotta isn't like that… He's too drunk and stupid to run the Hutt empire."

At last, understanding blossomed within Obi-wan. "Because you saved Rotta control of the Hutt family will go to him."

"Yes _._ And through him, _me._ " Anakin paused, "Rotta trusts me – now more than ever since he believes I saved his life. He's a waste of space, a partying alcoholic who'll be more than happy to let me step in to run the empire and handle the family affairs so that he can keep acting like a pig."

Obi-wan laced his fingers together on the desk. "Which, I take it you plan to do?"

Anakin offered him an icy smile. "I plan to take control and run them right into the ground where scum like them belong. By the time I'm done _nothing_ will be left."

After that, Obi-wan sat in silence for a long time processing everything his agent had said. It was a good plan… However, it would take years to see through to the end and that was only if everything went smoothly. It really could become a lifetime on the job. When he'd made his decision, he nodded to himself.

"Anakin, if it were anyone else standing in front of me, I would sanction it without hesitation. But as you've said, you've dedicated five years of your life to this. I want to at least offer you a _chance_ to walk away." He watched Anakin closely as he sat down again, looking for a reaction. "As I said, I'm retiring Padme Naberrie from fieldwork effective immediately. I could retire you as well. If it was what you wanted, I could find a solution that suits the _both_ of you… I'm giving you the option."

To Obi-wan's disappointment, Anakin's face fell into a deep mask that only an agent who'd been undercover for as long as he had could master. It was unreadable. It fell away after a few moments, however, when his eyes fell shut tightly and he exhaled a shaking breath. "You have no idea how tempting that is… But, I can't accept it, Obi-wan." His blue eyes opened and once more they were full of purpose. "My mother was one of those girls – the girls Padme pretended to be. She had me in one of those brothels… I'll never know who my father was – could have been one of the guards or staff – or fuck, I could be Jabba's for all I know. That's who she belonged to."

It wasn't the first time he'd heard this story but it was the first time he truly let the tale wash over him.

"The Hutts killed my mother." Anakin declared, "I saw them slit her throat after Jabba lost her in a bet. ' _Do whatever you want,'_ that's what the sick fuck said, _'she's yours. The staff will clean up the mess.'_ They probably would have killed me too if one of the other girls hadn't hidden me in the closet and put a hand over my mouth." He closed his eyes again, no doubt reliving the terrible memories and shook his head. "I owe it to her to see this through to the bitter end. I _will_ see it through."

Obi-wan frowned. Part of him knew Anakin should never have been placed with the Hutts… He was too close to the situation; his emotions were too laced with the destruction of the Hutts. But he'd allowed it anyway because Anakin was the most determined agent he'd had. Once more, guilt was heavy in his chest. Was this victory worth all the pain it'd taken? "At the cost of your own freedom, Anakin? Your own happiness?"

His answer came immediately with no hesitation. "At the cost of _everything._ "

Obi-wan felt shaken and leaned back in his chair, looking at the man who'd been a close friend of his years ago before the undercover work had begun. Now, sadly, they were strangers to one another… They'd been brothers once and seeing how lost Anakin had become in this revenge quest made him ache. _And it's my fault. I sanctioned it. I allowed it even when I knew I shouldn't._ He wanted to get his friend out of this mess and to ensure he could experience some semblance of happiness in this life… Wasn't that his duty as a friend and as the leader of this station? _Yes,_ it was. And so, he played a card he hoped would work.

"What about Padme? I know you two formed… A bond in your time spent together." That was a simplistic way of phrasing it. He'd received a full copy of Padme's medical report – the force was paying for everything after all and it was his job to know the extent of the damage she'd taken. Obi-wan knew she was pregnant and it wasn't difficult to place times and dates such as her escape from the Clovis mansion and the first phone call he'd had from her to work out that the father of the child had to be Anakin. There was a life to be had for him outside of this world, a happy life and Obi-wan wanted to see him take it.

The mention of Padme's name made Anakin's face crumble for a moment before he gathered himself. "Padme…" He breathed her name with a reverence Obi-wan had never heard from him before. "Padme and I will go our separate ways." To Obi-wan's great sadness his tone was full of a finality that said he'd made up his mind. "What kind of future could an FBI agent and a man working for the Hutts have?"

Anakin's resignation was audible and Obi-wan began to feel desperate. Should he tell him what he knew? Was it his place? "Anakin," he sighed, "there's something you should know. Something about Padme –"

" _No_!" Anakin cried and held up a hand to stop him. "Please don't… Don't tell me anything that'll make me want to stay… _Please_." When Obi-wan opened his mouth to argue Anakin spoke over him. "Look, do you think I'm wrong about what'll happen with the Hutts with Rotta in control?"

Obi-wan couldn't answer right away because deep down, he didn't. Anakin was right and admitting it meant losing him back into the underworld again.

" _Exactly._ " He chuckled dryly. "Let me do my job, Obi-wan."

Obi-wan's heart felt heavy. "And when the job is done?"

There was a long pause. "Maybe desk work won't be so bad."

It was the closest to hope that Obi-wan could ask for so he accepted it. "If you're sure about this, Anakin… I give you my permission. Just… Just be careful. This new role will bring more dangers than before. Jabba's uncle will be watching for an opportunity to take control."

Anakin nodded. "Don't worry about me. Until next time, I suppose." He offered a small, sad smile and turned toward the door. It wasn't until his fingers brushed the doorknob that he hesitated and glanced over his shoulder. "Obi-wan… I… Just make sure she's alright."

 _Oh, Anakin,_ he thought, _it really doesn't have to be like this._

"I will but you should too. She's in the Naboo sector private hospital, room G507."

Anakin shook his head, " _I told you_ ," he warned quietly, "don't tell me anything that could –"

"She flatlined, Anakin," Obi-wan said calmly, it wasn't something he enjoyed speaking of but desperate times called for desperate measures. "Her medical reports say she died in the estate for a few minutes… They almost didn't get her back."

Anakin didn't acknowledge the information or react. He slipped from the room without a word and let the door shut behind him again.

* * *

He watched her sleep more than slightly comforted by the rhythmic rise and fall of her chest as she breathed. _She was alive… She was still alive._ Leaving her behind in that place hadn't been his plan – hell, his actual plan was for Obi-wan to send an extraction team, but _that'd_ fallen through. Anakin wanted to take her with him and keep her safe until she was ready to go back to her real life. But then Rotta burst into the office and everything went to shit. She probably hated him for saving the Hutt heir and Anakin couldn't blame her.

 _At least she was alive to hate him_.

He wasn't sure how long he'd been here watching her… Visiting hours were long over he knew that much. The hospital was quiet save for the background noises of gurneys, footsteps and machines saving lives, and he was left alone with his thoughts. For the fifth time in two minutes, Anakin's eyes trailed the length of the IV drip attached to Padme's hand and worked their way up the heart monitor. It was relieving to hear it beeping, further proof that she'd beaten Clovis one last time.

Being left alone with his thoughts was a dangerous thing right now, Anakin mused, because inevitably they wandered to Obi-wan's offer. It'd taken _everything_ in his power to walk away from his friend and the potential of getting out. It would be _so easy…_ All it would take was emptying his apartment of what little of importance there was and climbing into the car Obi-wan would send. Then he'd be free. He could be himself again, or at least, he could be a real person outside of the Hutt empire.

And he could have a life with Padme outside of the underworld… A happy life together where they were honest about and _with_ each other. No more lies or deception… If he closed his eyes, Anakin could _see_ it. Maybe they could get an apartment someplace quiet or a little house out of the city where no one knew their names. Desk work would be boring in comparison to everything they'd done but it would be easy and safe at least. Every bone in his body ached for it.

Granted, for all he knew Padme might never want anything to do with him ever again after what had happened. Anakin hadn't missed the mistrust and betrayal in her eyes when he'd pushed Rotta out the way of her bullet. It'd _burned_ to watch everything they'd built together crash down in her eyes.

Maybe if he told her the truth about who he was, an agent of the same organisation she worked for, she might understand. Nobody was as passionate or driven as Padme; Anakin had learned that much about her in their short time together. If there was _anyone_ who'd understood sacrifice for the job, it was her.

But he couldn't tell her. He couldn't see or speak to her again. It would be too painful to walk away from her a second time; Anakin didn't have it in him to face it twice. Everyone had their breaking point and for him, it was Padme. His heart was in two pieces. One belonged to her and the other was wherever Jabba's goons had buried his mother.

Without thinking, Anakin reached out to stroke his knuckles along Padme's uninjured cheek longingly. He wanted a life with her but he also wanted to avenge his mother's murder. Briefly, before the attack and Clovis taking Padme back, he'd wondered if simply killing Jabba might be enough. Now he knew that it wasn't. He wanted their empire in _ruins_. No matter what the personal cost to himself.

It really was better this way… How could Anakin be anything else but a constant reminder to Padme of everything she'd endured? He was a part of that world even if it was a mask. He was tainted forever and she still had a chance to be clean. It would have been selfish to take that away from her… Even if it broke his own heart to let her go.

Padme deserved better than him. She deserved a real life with someone who could keep her safe… Anakin couldn't do that. Not until his work was finished and he couldn't expect her to wait.

He stroked her face again before reaching down to lift her limp hand into his own and brought it to his lips. "I love you," Anakin whispered, "and I'm sorry it had to be this way. Maybe in another life… Maybe it could have been different."

Maybe they could have joined the force at the same time, met outside of their covers and had a real chance. Maybe they'd have fallen for each other and he'd have gathered up the courage to ask her out. Maybe, if he was lucky, she might have even said yes.

Maybe, maybe, maybe…

All the what ifs and could have beens played out in Anakin's head until he felt ill with envy of his imaginary self.

It was time. He had to let her go. " _Don't look back_ ," his mother's voice whispered in his ear. _"Be brave… Don't look back_."

Nodding to himself, Anakin allowed himself one last lingering look at her beautiful face.

"Goodbye, Padme."

 _ **A/N: One last chapter to go… Let me know what you think!**_


	12. Chapter 12

_**A/N: First of all, I'm so sorry for the long wait for this final chapter! If you follow me on Tumblr, you know why it was delayed.**_

 _ **This thing took forever to edit... It's nineteen pages. NINETEEN PAGES! I hope you enjoy!**_

 _ **One year later**_

Padme smiled and quietly thanked the teenaged barista behind the counter, shoving the small handful of change into her wallet and dropping it deep into her purse. The queue behind her moved up like clockwork to order their own drinks as she moved over toward the small waiting area. She shouldn't be here really but she'd gotten a terrible sleep last night which had, of course, made her sleep in a little late today and now she was twenty minutes behind schedule. Still, the call of caffeine was too strong.

While she waited, Padme rooted through her purse for her phone, silently cursing herself for carrying around so much _garbage._ She really didn't _need_ two perfumes, a diary, extra t-shirt, make up bag _and_ her wallet. And that was only the things she could see right away. Finally, just as she was tempted to simply tip the contents of the leather bag out onto the nearest table to find it, the device lit up and began to vibrate.

She grabbed it and accepted the call. "Bail, hi! I'm just grabbing some coffee and I'll be there in," Padme winced as she glanced at her watch. She _really_ was late, "thirty minutes?"

Bail's sigh was audible down the phone. "Padme, the meeting starts in twenty minutes…"

"I know, I know… You're more than capable of starting things along without me and you know it. We've gone over everything a _thousand_ times by now."

His chuckle was a good sign. "I appreciate that. It's only… I would feel better if you were here too. I truly believe your voice would sway more people over to our side of things."

It was nice to worry about simple things like running late to meetings and whether or not they could convince the higher-ups to grant more funding to up and coming policing techniques and technologies. Padme hadn't felt so at ease and content with her life in…Well, ever. It felt like sinking into a hot relaxing bath in comparison to a year ago.

"I'll be there soon, I promise. I've just got to drop by Sola's and then I'll be on the way. She's only a block away from here."

"Alright, alright." He laughed quietly, "listen, there's something I want to speak with you about after the meeting. N- nothing bad, don't worry."

At this, Padme's breath hitched. There'd been silly whispers at the office about Bail developing a bit of a crush on her since her transfer but she'd always waved them off with a laugh. But recently, Mon had come to Padme's desk smiling like the cat that got the cream and whispered all about how their colleague had asked for tips on asking her out. Bail was a wonderful man, someone she respected and liked greatly but… She wasn't ready. And he most certainly wasn't ready for someone like her.

She was scarred, emotionally _and_ physically, from everything last year had thrown at her. Every so often she suffered terrible anxiety and the nightmares still came no matter what she did. Padme had a lot of healing inside to do before she could even _consider_ something like dating. And sometimes, all that was the _least_ of her worries.

"Okay…" She spoke barely above a whisper. It wasn't going to be easy to find a way to let Bail down without hurting his feelings or threatening their professional relationship. His friendship and support was something Padme valued immensely after all. "Listen, I have to go, but I'll see you soon. Bye."

"Bye, Padme."

She ended the call and dropped the phone back into her purse just in time for the second barista to call her name signalling that her drink was ready. It was silly, but simple things like hearing other people call her name, her _real_ name brought a small smile to her lips. Every time was a little more confirmation that it was really all over. _She was free_.

Taking the coffee, Padme made her way outside the crowded shop, thanking the man who held the door open for her as she did so. The air outside was cool and refreshing compared to the warm sun. It was the kind of day that made her long for her childhood home by the lake where she and Sola would spend the day swimming and lazing on the grassy bank. Yes, she was running terribly late but her therapist had recently told her to enjoy the little moments, to truly drink them in for her own wellbeing and Padme was doing her best to do so.

" _Let yourself heal, Padme. Not as an agent and not as Amidala, but as you."_

Seeing a therapist had been Obi-wan's idea at first and Padme had been reluctant at first, only scheduling the first appointment when her boss had so kindly informed her it was mandatory for undercover agents. She'd realised just how badly she'd needed to talk about everything through with someone outside of the situation. It'd been painstakingly difficult at first as she'd relived the horrors of her time in the Clovis estate, the grief of losing Dorme and Ahsoka, her loss of identity and self-worth… They'd gone through everything session by session until slowly, she'd begun to find the strength to stitch herself back together again. After her month of mandatory sessions had finished, Padme had immediately scheduled weekly follow-ups for the foreseeable future. Now, a full year later, life was finally regaining something close to normality.

A small sound drew her attention back to reality with a content sigh. Padme looked down at the stroller before her and came around it to look down at the two children carefully strapped in. The moment they saw her each twin's little face broke out into beautiful little smiles and it inspired one of her own. Sinking down to a crouch she reached out and stroked her palm over her son's soft blonde hair before repeating the soft touch to her daughter's dark curls.

"My little miracles." Padme smiled. That they most certainly were. _How_ these two had managed to survive everything she'd endured at the hands of Clovis in the estate was incredible. In her darkest moments, she'd been sure they were lost, that she'd been too weak to keep them safe from danger. But here they were… Her precious little Luke and Leia. If it hadn't been for them, she wasn't sure she would have found the strength to pull herself together after waking up in the hospital. They were Padme's light, her reason to keep on.

Leaning forward, she pressed a small kiss to both her children's foreheads and stood up straight again to begin moving. The moment was over and she _really_ needed to get a move on and drop the twins off at Sola's.

* * *

It was late by the time Padme left work that day, almost , and she was very thankful Sola had offered to keep the twins overnight. Maybe she might actually be able to scrape a full night's sleep for once… Maybe…

Somehow, she'd managed to avoid being alone with Bail all day which probably wasn't the best or most mature course of action but she just wasn't ready to face his question yet. Maybe tomorrow, if she could manage to steal a proper night's rest she might be more prepared… Well, she would have to face it sooner than later, unfortunately.

When she'd first transferred over to this city, Padme had fallen into the expensive habit of hopping into cabs everywhere. At first, it'd been about safety. Rotta Hutt had _many_ resources and wanted her blood. Even in a new city, she hadn't felt free to walk the streets. After the residual fear finally faded, the habit had shifted and become about her struggles as a single mother taking care of twin infants on her own. It was _so much_ more difficult than she'd anticipated and for the span of several months, Padme hadn't been on time for anything.

Now, life felt like it'd all finally come together and she could enjoy the luxury of a simple walk home.

She walked a few blocks until a poorly illuminated sign reading " _Tatooine's Finest"_ caught her eye. Even from across the street the place looked run down and dingy… The type of place the people she'd tried so hard to escape would frequent for fun. Definitely somewhere Padme should avoid at all costs. And yet still… She suddenly _wanted_ to go. Why? She had wine and other drinks at home where she'd be _safe,_ it would be stupid to waste the money not to mention someone who knew the wrong person might recognise her. But on the other hand, she didn't get out enough these days. Her social life had boiled down to weekly sessions of _mommy and me_ classes for the twins and occasional sit downs with her sister.

Padme missed being around _people_. Even if they were just getting on with their own lives around her.

 _One glass_. She could have one glass of wine and go home. The itch would be scratched and that would be the end of it, right?

Glancing both ways, the former agent scurried across the road and ducked inside the building as quickly as possible. It was dark but that was to be expected in a place like this, the carpets had clearly once been red but were stained with substances Padme couldn't bear to think about as she stepped over them, the stools along the bar were lined with matching leather and the place absolutely _reeked_ of smoke. In short, it was a dump.

She stepped further inside and held her coat just a little tighter over her body. It was good to be here… Her therapist had told her to push herself out of her comfort zones every now and again. Still, Padme's heart raced just a little too much for her comfort as she approached the bar and slid onto one of the stools. _One drink. One small drink and she could go._

The bartender was busy serving another customer so Padme drummed her fingernails against the bar to distract herself from her flaring anxiety. Taking a deep breath, she looked at the colourful collection of alcohol bottles on the bartender's shelf and noticed herself in the mirror behind them. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea? Maybe going home would be for the –

Padme's unsettled gaze landed on a figure in the mirror just a few stools down and she froze. No…No, it couldn't be! It wasn't possible. She'd moved away, out of the city where no one from the underworld could ever find her again! But – but he was _here_ , nursing a drink and lost in thought just three stools and two bodies away. Seeing him was like seeing someone from another _lifetime_. He was a memory Padme almost wished she could erase…

Suddenly, the two people beside her stood and walked toward the exit together sharing a laugh as if they knew the situation they were leaving her to. She should get up and follow them whilst he was distracted. Then this would be nothing but a bad dream and life could move on as if he hadn't smashed through her new normality. It would be easy and safer. Any sane person would run for their lives.

" _Anakin_?" His name choked its way out of her throat rebelliously.

His drink had been halfway to his mouth when she'd spoken and he froze, stiffening at the sound of her voice. A second later, he set the drink back down, untouched, and slowly turned to face her.

"Padme," was all he said. She couldn't believe this was really happening. He looked exactly how she remembered him and it was startling. The last time they'd seen each other was in Clovis' estate when he'd chosen Rotta over her and vanished. Now, here he was and a thousand thoughts flew through her mind at once.

 _He betrayed her._

 _He left her._

 _She had his babies._

 _He didn't know._

 _Should she tell him_?

The last thought was startling and distressing in itself. One half of Padme supposed he had a right to know but the other wanted to keep Luke and Leia safe and away from his job. Her heart still hurt from Anakin picking Rotta and the criminal life over _whatever_ it was they'd shared and she'd rather die than let her children _ever_ feel the same way. And yet the words were on the tip of her tongue, longing to see his reaction and share her accidental secret.

As she tried to formulate something to say, the Hutt bodyguard's eyes trailed the length of Padme's body. "You look good – _well_ , I mean. Healthy."

"I am." She breathed. _Well enough at least._ "What – what are you doing here?"

Anakin fidgeted with his drink and she noticed a new tattoo on his left forearm where the long sleeves of his crisp white dress shirt had been rolled up. A ferocious male lion wearing a grand crown looked back at Padme as she stared. He caught her gaze and sighed. "It's Rotta's – new head of the family needs a new symbol of loyalty. There are five points on the crown, see?" His finger traced the points of the crown the lion wore. "They stand for obedience, sacrifice, honour, love and respect…"

She wanted to snort and roll her eyes. Love? _Love?_ What did he know about love? Or _honour_ for that matter? He'd had a chance to see Rotta face justice for all the suffering his family had caused and chose to escape with the Hutt heir – where was the honour in _that_? Seething, Padme forced herself to look away and nodded. "How long are you here?"

Anakin tugged his sleeve back down over the tattoo. "Just a day or two. Rotta needed some things checked up on." He gave a dry, mirthless chuckle then, "you going to arrest me, agent Naberrie?"

He eyed her from the side almost as if he felt _nervous_ about her answer but Padme knew him better than that… Or at least, that was what she might have thought a year ago when she'd been lost in their pretend world of peace in his little apartment. How could she have been so deluded?

"I might have… If I still had my badge."

She felt his stare for a few moments but the will to meet his eye was gone. She'd thought that she was better, that she'd moved past the worst of the pain but how wrong she'd been. Her heart ached like he'd just bolted from that office in Clovis' estate tonight and not a year ago. _Get a grip, Padme!_

"I'd heard you'd transferred here, y'know." Anakin breathed, "Rotta charged me with finding you… He wanted revenge. Only took me a week to find out you were here."

Panic clenched tight in Padme's stomach and suddenly she felt sick. "Wh – _what_?" Rotta knew where she was? Oh god, what if he came after her? Or – or worse, what if he found out about Luke and Leia and did something to them? No. _No!_ She had to get out of here and get her children somewhere safe before –

"I didn't tell him." Suddenly, Anakin's fingers clasped her wrist and the jolt of his touch forced her eyes up to meet his, wide and frightened. "I _promise,_ Padme, I'm making sure he never finds out about you."

She shouldn't trust him. She _couldn't_ trust him. If she was smart, Padme would get up and go fetch Luke and Leia from Sola's and go somewhere safe, far away from where Anakin or his boss could ever find them again. But, his bright blue eyes radiated sincerity and what almost seemed like _concern._ Her mind didn't want to believe him but her silly, traitorous heart? It accepted his words without question.

"Why should I believe you? Anakin, I have responsibilities now – people I want to keep safe." Padme tugged her wrist free and he let her without comment.

"New work friends, huh?" He had the audacity to roll his eyes.

 _If only he knew…_

"Don't talk to me that way." She grit her teeth.

Despite her annoyance, Anakin's admission stung. He'd known where she was… It wouldn't have been difficult to see her, to explain himself… They could have… Luke and Leia might have met him, _known_ him. But he didn't. He'd known where she was and hadn't sought her out.

If Anakin was aware of her growing turmoil he didn't show it, casually producing his wallet and pulling out a ten-dollar bill and setting it down onto the bar. "I should go." He announced. "There's things that I – "

"No."

Padme heard her own voice leave her lips before she'd even decided to speak. He _couldn't_ just leave her without giving her some answers. The former special agent drew in a deep breath and braced herself. Wanting answers and actually getting them were two different things… If she was being honest with herself, Padme was afraid. What if she was just throwing herself right back to square one of her recovery? Baring herself to him like this, asking the questions she'd been asking herself ever since she woke up in that hospital bed a year ago hurting and confused and completely and utterly alone, it was like giving him the power to break her heart all over again. And yet, this could be her only chance to know, to _understand_ why Anakin had done what he'd done, why the life he'd seemed to hate so much had been more appealing in those last moments than the quiet little dream they'd shared.

She took a deep breath.

"Why?" The quiet word made the Hutt bodyguard freeze where he sat. "Anakin, I don't understand! I – I wanted to – I _needed_ to talk to you and you just left me! You chose Rotta and _left_ with him! _Why?"_ That was the start of three hundred and sixty days of questions Padme had for him. Was it because of her? Because of who she was? How had he found out about her? How long had he known? Was he afraid she'd arrest him?

A year ago, Padme would have understood the tensing of Anakin's shoulders and the little crease between his eyebrows almost as deeply as she understood her own body language but not now. She didn't know him anymore. She never really _had_ known him; the reality was still as painful now as it had been last year.

He couldn't meet her eyes as he spoke, "I… I thought it would be for the best if I kept away."

" _For the best_?" Padme whispered, "For who? It certainly wasn't the best for me! Anakin, after everything we went through together… Everything that happened, I thought – you would think you'd have known me better than that."

At last, their eyes met and guilt swirled inside the azure hues she'd so stupidly fallen in love with. The eyes he shared with their son, her constant reminder of his betrayal. "It wasn't… I stayed away because of _me,_ Padme. It wasn't about you."

This gave the former agent pause. "What?" She gaped at him.

Behind the counter, the bartender faced away from them, polishing a glass with a white rag slowly before setting it down and replacing it with another from the tray. He could hear everything they were saying, something that hadn't occurred to her before. A year ago, his presence would have made her wary, she would have watched him and avoided as if her life depended on it. And it would have if he'd been another of Clovis' goons; everything he'd done to her after her recapture had proven that.

His face softened suddenly and she loathed the swell in her heart at the sight. It wasn't fair, he didn't just get to look at her tenderly like that and make her heart stutter like it used to. He _left_ her behind! He'd had a choice between Rotta and her and he'd chosen Rotta.

"I risked it all for you, Padme." Anakin whispered, "my position… All my work… And I would have risked more for you. If I'd come back to see you again…" His lips twisted, "Everything I've done – everything I've worked for all these years would have been ruined."

She frowned, shaking her head. That didn't make any sense. "What does that even mean?"

Anakin glanced at the man behind the counter and then around the bar before meeting Padme's eye again. "I don't exactly think this is the time or place to – "

"I don't care!" Padme snapped, interrupting him sharply. Maybe it was dangerous for him to be overheard but right now she didn't care who was around. He wasn't slithering out of this again. "You _abandoned_ me. You vanished with the heir to the Hutt empire and I haven't heard a word from you in _a year._ If we don't have this conversation now, I have no doubt you'll slip away again, so _yes_ , this _is_ the time and place to speak."

"Fine." Anakin huffed. "Can we at least go somewhere less…" His suspicious eyes cast a glance around the bar again, sizing up each patron where they sat, " _public?"_

At that, Padme relaxed slightly. _He wasn't running away again._ "My apartment isn't far from here, will that work?"

He sighed, sounding resigned. "Alright, lead the way."

She stood up and made her way toward the door and tried to ignore how his reluctance hurt.

* * *

As they'd stepped out of the dingy little bar, a cab had appeared and Padme stepped off the edge of the sidewalk to hail it. It wasn't until the yellow door had slammed shut behind her that dread dawned upon her. In the heat of the moment, she'd been desperate to keep him from leaving her again before she could get any real answers that the offer of returning to her home had seemed like a good one. Now, clarity washed over her and she remembered the photographs of Luke and Leia on her walls, their toys around the apartment and general signs of two one-year-olds living with her.

 _What was she thinking?_

Too late to change her mind now, the former agent sat silently as the driver pulled Anakin into a conversation about some big football game on the following night. It was easy to drone them out with panic drumming in her ears. _What was she going to do?_ Maybe he wouldn't notice? Her apartment was clean and well kept; it wasn't as if her children's things had taken over in an overly noticeable way. But she _had_ left their sippy cups by the sink! _Ugh._

Maybe she could tell him it all belonged to her nieces? Anakin didn't know anything about Ryoo and Pooja, much less their ages; it would be an easy lie. Any good aunt had pictures of her nieces, right? But she'd told him that Dorme was her sister and he knew what happened to her… Unless he'd already figured out Dorme was her partner by now. _Oh_ , her head was beginning to ache with the strain.

They arrived far too quickly for Padme's liking and her fingers trembled as she unlocked the door. _This was it_. No turning back now she supposed. There was nothing incriminating in the hallway as she led him inside. The apartment was an open plan design with a combined living room and kitchen with only her breakfast bar separating the two rooms. It was spacious and affordable. Perfect for her and the twins but she'd never had someone other than Sola over before. It was a little frightening.

"Can I get you something?" Padme's voice cracked as she spoke and she kicked Luke's red plastic spaceship behind the breakfast bar as quietly as possible as Anakin's gaze wandered around the living room. It felt _awkward_ and she hated it. When they lived together there'd been an easiness, a comfort in the little routines they created. They'd been comfortable together. She hadn't ever really felt awkward around him. Now… Things were different.

She quickly swept the twin's cups into the sink and leant by it as Anakin turned around to face her. "No, I'm alright, thanks."

Nodding, Padme turned around and reached for the cabinet above the sink. "Okay. I'm having something though." God knew she was probably going to need something strong to get through this. Grabbing a long-stemmed wine glass, she poured herself a generous helping of the deep red liquid. Drink in hand, she led Anakin to the stools at the breakfast bar and sat down, watching as he slid into one opposite her.

"Is that you?" He asked suddenly, gesturing to the wall on Padme's left. Following his gaze, her eyes landed on a silver-framed photograph of Luke and Leia hung up on the wall and her heart leapt into her throat. Oh god, what was she thinking bringing him here? It was so monumentally stupid! Whatever she felt for him then or now, she couldn't… He couldn't find out about Luke and Leia. It was just too dangerous for them to have _any_ connection to the underworld, especially if that connection tied them to Rotta Hutt who very much wanted Padme dead. The reality of it was she that just _couldn't_ trust him. No matter what her stupid heart wanted, Padme had to think of her children first. Luke and Leia's safety was _everything_ to her.

"Yes." She swallowed a gulp of wine.

"Who's the kid?" He asked curiously, still eyeing the photograph and Padme's fingers began to tremble. Why was he so interested in a silly picture? It was one of _her_ favourite pictures of the twins but he had no real connection to it. Not that he knew about anyway.

"Just some neighbour kid I knew when I was a little girl." She gave a half-shrug and sipped at the wine again. "I don't even remember his name anymore."

At that, Anakin's attention was drawn back to her with an inquisitive eyebrow raised. "You don't remember his name and his picture's on the wall?" He rose from the stool and stepped slowly toward the small section of wall the picture was hung up on, eyes lingering on Leia's precious little face for a few moments too long before flicking back to Padme.

"I don't have a lot of happy memories." She muttered truthfully, "I like to keep the few that I have close."

He nodded distantly and looked back at the picture again before returning to the stool, dropping down heavily. Something in his face changed as he looked at her, however. He was colder… Suspicious. His searing gaze reminded Padme suddenly of those tense moments after he'd read the journal she'd kept in Clovis' estate. It made her nervous.

"Have you been okay?" He asked suddenly, "everything here is… You're alright now?" The caring tone that coated his words hurt more than they should have. If he'd cared so much about her wellbeing he wouldn't have vanished out the backdoor of Clovis' office and left her behind.

"I'm okay." She nodded, "or at least, I'm getting there." Padme took yet another sip of her wine and set the glass back down. "It's been a longer process than I thought… I guess I didn't realise just how badly I'd been hurt by everything… Emotionally, that is. I was just so focused on completing my mission and surviving that everything else just got pushed to the side." Her nails tapped anxiously against the glass she held.

Anakin nodded, "like your own wellbeing?"

"Yes." She shifted uncomfortably, "like that."

A tired grimace crossed his face. "I know how that feels." He murmured quietly.

Silence fell between them then and Padme let it stretch on for several minutes. She'd imagined this meeting so many times in her mind over the past year, thought of so many things she wanted to say to him and practised it over and over again until it all just became a jumbled mess of words and confessions.

 _Why did you leave me, I loved you, I don't understand, we have two babies, I wanted you to pick me, why, why, why… Why?_

Why?

That's what she needed to know most of all. Everything else, all the hurt and unresolved feelings could be put to rest at last if she understood his motivations. All Padme needed was that _one_ piece of closure to finally close the door on that terrible part of her life forever. She needed it so badly it ached sometimes.

"Anakin," She breathed and waited until his eyes met hers, "why did you save Rotta Hutt?"

There. One year later and she'd finally said it out loud. The release of tension almost made her shoulders sag in relief. Now it was done… Whatever his answer was she could have her closure and that'd be it. Somehow, suddenly the prospect didn't make her feel any better.

He held her gaze for a minute before speaking. "That's… That's complicated. The simple answer is that I need him alive."

Padme shook her head and leaned over the counter by her forearms. That _was not_ a real answer, it was a weak cop out and she deserved the truth! " _Why?"_ She asked, incredulously. What could Anakin possibly need Rotta Hutt alive for? He wasn't one of the man's business contacts, they weren't friends, there was _nothing_ to gain from the man being alive!

"Because otherwise, I'd be out of a job." He muttered flatly.

Padme's eyes widened and she fell backwards into her stool, too shocked to gather words. How – how could he be so _casual_ about it? _Maybe he really didn't care at all_ … With shaking hands, she reached for her glass and downed the last of her wine, letting the dark liquid burn her throat as she swallowed. Slamming the glass back down, the former agent shook her head.

" _Really?"_ She spat, "that's your reason for letting the heir of the Hutt Empire live and continue to hurt people? People like me – people who've done _nothing_ to deserve it!"

Infuriatingly, Anakin's expression didn't waver even in the face of her anger. "Yes." He deadpanned. "I _do_ work for him, remember."

"But you _saved me_!" Padme pleaded. It had to mean something… Everything that happened, it _had_ to mean something to him too. "If your loyalties are truly with Rotta and the Hutts, _why_ did you risk your job to help me even when you knew I was an agent? For all intents and purposes what's happening between the police and Rotta's clan is a war and he and I are on opposite sides. Why save us both?"

"I don't care about what happens between your people and his people. The fact is; I wanted both of you alive."

"You really want _him_ alive?" She realised suddenly that she'd wanted to hear him recant, to declare that saving Rotta had been a mistake and tell her he wished he hadn't done it. Tears sprung to her eyes as it dawned upon her. _She wanted him to be like her, one of the good guys._

"Yes, I do." His words crushed her hope as he pinched at the bridge of his nose, giving a tired sigh.

Despite her despair, his words sparked a deep fury in Padme's chest and she felt her eyes flash. "So what? You're just a _leech_ at Rotta's side looking for money? Power? _Is that it_? You don't care that the man you're protecting is one of the most evil people alive?"

She desperately wanted him to deny it, to lower his guard for her again and finally let her in. She wanted him to give her… Well, _anything_ really. Anything but this cold mask and façade of aloofness he was presenting.

He didn't.

"Rotta is… He's not Jabba. He can't hold a candle to his father." He gave a slow shrug, "Things are different now. I've traded one boss for a less intimidating version."

"But he's still a Hutt!" Padme shouted back, slamming her hands down onto the counter. "I don't… I don't understand, Anakin!" _Please, make me understand._ "Why did you start working for such a _terrible_ family? And why are you still so loyal to them? You saw what people like them did to me – you know how they hurt people! What could possibly have happened to you to make you believe _they_ could give you a better future?"

It was Anakin's turn to be quiet now and he stayed that way for quite some time. Finally, he spoke slowly, "working for the Hutts gave me a purpose when I thought I had nothing left. As for my loyalty… Right now, it's necessary."

Padme's chest felt too tight… As if some great invisible hand was _squeezing_ her heart in order to crush it to pieces. This wasn't how she'd thought it would go at all. This confrontation wasn't supposed to break her heart all over again. "So… So what was I?" She whispered. All her anger had faded away, giving way to the pain that fuelled it. Her voice sounded small to her own ears but Padme pressed on regardless. "Was I a means to an end for you, Anakin? A convenient _fuck_?" She spat the word. Her eyes blurred but she blinked back the tears, determined to remain defiant. "That night after Clovis' party… When you… You helped me and took care of me. Was that just an act too? Did it mean nothing to you?"

Anakin stared at her, seemingly aghast. "Is that what you think?"

Padme stood up and pushed her chair backwards. "What else should I think? I – I know things started poorly between us, neither of us wanted much to do with each other but things changed. By the end, I cared about you, Anakin! I cared about you _so much_. And you just left me! You disappeared without even saying goodbye!" She turned away from him and faced the wall as the first tear managed to fall. "How could you do that?"

"Padme," his voice sounded strained and it forced her to glance back over her shoulder at him. "I _never_ wanted to hurt you. You don't understand, all I want is for you to be safe and happy." The expression on his face was so genuine and true that it threw her for a moment, shocking her to silence before the tide shifted in her chest, pain returning to anger.

She _laughed_ and it was as cold and harsh and raw as her emotions. " _Fuck you._ " She hissed and turned to face him again.

He seemed taken aback and climbed out of his seat. " _What?"_

Padme strode towards him then, rounding the table in a few quick steps and shoved him, _hard_. "I said, _fuck you_ ," the last two words dripped with venom. She shoved him again, letting all the anger she'd suppressed for a year finally have its moment.

"Hey! Stop it!" He said, evading her as she made to shove him a third time.

"Why? What are you going to do – lie to me again?" She managed the third shove and he stumbled backwards a few steps, anger sparking in his eyes. Suddenly, he moved so fast it seemed almost reflective, he grabbed her and slammed her back against the wall making something clatter to the ground as he pinned both her wrists in his hand.

Her mind _screamed_ in protest. She hadn't been pinned by anyone since Clovis recaptured her and a wave of nausea crashed through her as the memories flared to life. Still, Padme's body didn't so much as flinch. "Go on then," she hissed, "hit me back. Give me something else to remember you by!" The words tumbled angrily from her lips before Padme could think or stop them.

Anakin blinked. "What're you talking about? I'm not going to – I would _never_! I meant what I said, Padme, I never wanted to hurt you. If I did it was only to keep you safe."

She scoffed. "Why would you care about my safety?"

His eyes blazed and he bared his teeth. "Why do you _think_? Because I love you!" Both of them froze, neither of them daring to breathe for a suspended moment. Then, slowly, Anakin released her and stepped backwards. "I love you, Padme" he repeated softly, hanging his head. "I know you probably think I'm lying because I'm not capable but it's the truth…"

Padme's throat was dry as dust and her mind was reeling. " _Why_ …" she faltered, stopped and then tried again. "Why didn't you tell me before? Before you left?"

"Because you might have stayed," He admitted honestly. "And that would have gotten you killed. Rotta knows your face. I've managed to keep him away from you by ensuring he thinks you're just one of Clovis' brothel girls but if you were near me, _with me_ , it'd be impossible to keep you safe. Rotta's paranoid, convinced an assassination attempt is always around the corner. He has other bodyguards now and people to watch us and report back. He would have found you."

She shook her head. "You could have come with me… You could have gotten out. I would have helped you – I still can!"

Anakin looked at her and the pain that shone in his eyes made her heart clench. "I can't leave yet." He looked away for a moment to something on the floor but Padme didn't care to follow his gaze. "Someday I will though. But not until I finish something I started a long time ago."

Padme watched him for a long moment, awed and confused. _Who are you, Anakin?_ The question was on the tip of her tongue because the pieces just weren't adding up in her head. She was missing something, something vital to understanding him properly… It didn't make sense that the person who helped her, the man who _loved_ her was the same man who willingly worked with the Hutt family and singlehandedly ensured their survival. She wanted desperately to fit everything together and finally understand. But she couldn't. She couldn't because she loved him back enough to let him keep his secrets.

"Fine." Padme nodded once and cast her gaze low. It would break her heart but she'd let him go if that was what he needed. _It's for the best anyway…_ "Whatever it is you're doing, I hope it works for you, Anakin… I do."

He didn't answer her or take the silent out she offered. "I answered your questions," he said instead, "now I have a couple of my own." Her eyes snapped upwards to meet his, surprised. What questions could he possibly have for her? Stunned, it was all Padme could do to nod her permission. Anakin's blue eyes flicked from her face and to the floor twice before a small frown creased his features. "Your freckles," he gestured at her face, "were you born with them?"

Padme jolted, startled by his question. If she'd had a million guesses at what he might ask her _that_ would never have occurred to her. Slowly, her fingers came up to touch the prominent freckle on her cheek and nodded. "I – yes… _Why?"_ She couldn't fathom why on earth Anakin would want to know something so unimportant and mundane as that? What possible use was that information to him?

His frown deepened and suddenly he crouched down to the floor. This time, Padme _did_ watch him as he picked up the source of the earlier clattering. _Luke and Leia's photograph._ Anakin held it and stood back to his full height before meeting her eye. "Because in this picture, you don't have them."

 _Oh god._

"I guess I was wrong. They must have grown before I remember." She lied quietly, "I don't see why you'd care about something so silly."

Anakin gazed at the picture again and Padme's fingers twitched to tear it out of his hands. "This picture is amazing quality for being so old."

Padme started to sweat. "It's been looked after well. Look, Anakin, what is this about?" Honestly, she didn't want him to leave, she wasn't nearly ready to say goodbye but he was getting too close to the truth about Luke and Leia. He had to go… _Now._ "I'm sure you don't really care about the quality of my childhood photographs and I have to work in the morning."

The hint to go was there but Anakin wasn't looking at her anymore and when she followed his eye, she doubted he was even listening to her. He'd spotted the twin's pink and blue plastic sippy cups in the sink. Her heart began to pound in her chest, thundering so loudly it was a miracle he didn't hear it and see her panic.

"You usually drink out of sippy cups?" He quirked an eyebrow at her and Padme forced a laugh out of her throat. It was high pitched and breathless.

"Oh, no… My little nieces spent the night yesterday."

At that, his gaze hardened and he bolted too quickly for Padme to have anticipated, moving toward the other side of her apartment where the two doors that led to her bedroom and the twins' nursery stood. _Oh god, oh no. Oh god._ In a second she was right behind him, grabbing at the back of his sleeve. "Excuse me? What do you think you're doing?"

He didn't answer and threw open the first door, it swung and _whacked_ off the inside wall with the force of it. Beside Padme's bed was a telltale, unmissable double cot she'd painstakingly painted pale yellow for hours before the twins were born. It was only still there in case of bad night emergencies, both Luke and Leia were more than happy to sleep in their bedroom next door most nights. Anakin looked at the cradle and then back at Padme, eyes blazing.

"You…" He could barely muster words, "Padme, you had a _kid_?"

"No." She crossed her arms over her chest defiantly. Maybe there was still a way out of this? She could say that was here for when Ryoo and Pooja stayed over! Yes! It was theirs from last night and Sola just hadn't taken it with her this morning! "It's my nieces' crib. My sister –"

Anakin's gaze travelled from the crib to the photo frame in his hand. "You had a kid…" He whispered to himself slowly and then a moment later his head snapped up to meet her eyes. He took a step toward her, "… Is it mine?" His words were a low whisper and if she didn't know any better, Padme might have thought he was afraid.

" _No_." She couldn't look him in the eye as she lied. It hurt too badly. Every inch of her trembled though she tried to hide it. This couldn't be happening! It _couldn't_. She should never have invited him here! She should have gone straight home after work and none of this would be happening. _What had she been thinking_? She'd put her children in danger because of her own selfish need for closure. They had to leave. They had to go somewhere else and start again where Anakin couldn't find them to lead Rotta here – even unintentionally! He'd said himself his boss has people watching him.

At that, Anakin's face crumpled and he cupped her shoulder in his hand. "Clovis'?"

Padme's eyes widened in horror and she recoiled from him instantly. "What – _no!_ Absolutely not!" The very _idea_ that her precious, innocent children could have come from that _monster_ was disgusting. The thought disgusted her.

"So then what?" His arms gestured furiously toward her, "if it's not mine and it's not _his,_ then…" Padme's heart ached at the flash of pain that crossed his handsome face, "then who? What, you had some boyfriend waiting for you to come back from your cover?"

There it was… An easy out to the situation. If she'd had someone on the other side waiting for her return it would have been easy to conceive the twins after a reunion. She hadn't been very far along when everything had imploded with Clovis and Jabba so faking a non-existent father would be easy. It was the best choice, no; it was her _only_ choice if she wanted to keep Luke and Leia safe. This was the best outcome Padme could have hoped for. And yet, as she met Anakin's pained eyes and felt her own burn with tears in return, she wondered why it hurt so badly.

Anakin wasn't expecting her to say yes, Padme could tell by the way his face fell as she nodded. "I… His name is Palo." Her voice cracked, "we separated when I took on the cover role but when I got back…" She wrapped her arms around herself tightly, "things were different."

He nodded and turned away, resting one palm on the edge of Luke and Leia's crib. "Palo…" He repeated quietly, "you must have been glad to see him again."

This wasn't supposed to hurt so badly. Protecting her children should be something instinctual, easy and thoughtless… This felt like a knife straight through her heart. No matter how badly Anakin's abandonment had hurt her, Padme had never wanted to hurt him in return, _not ever._ Especially like this, knowing he'd fallen in love with her too and telling him her heart belonged elsewhere and always had. She wanted to tell him the truth, to plead with him to turn his life around and come away with her and raise their children.

But what was the point? Anakin had made his choice a year ago and now Padme had made her own. She was going to stick to it.

"I was." She whispered. "We're happy together – the four of us."

Anakin looked back down to the photograph in his hand for a moment before meeting her eyes. "Twins?"

Padme nodded. "Yes." Maybe it was wrong, maybe from his perspective it was twisting the knife she'd just put into his chest but suddenly _all_ she wanted to do was tell him about their babies. She needed him to know about them… Even if he didn't know they were his. "Luke and Leia. They're so happy and creative and I can't take my eyes off them for even a second or they'll be doing something nefarious." She'd always thought they got that from him. "They're the best things in my life."

"I, uh," he swiped his hand across his cheek quickly, hiding a tear she wished she never saw. "I'm glad you're happy, Padme… You deserve that."

 _So do you,_ she wanted to say but didn't. "Thank you." She said as Anakin stepped around her, making to leave and she shook her head. No, he couldn't go yet… She wasn't ready to say goodbye to him, not now, not ever. Why did it have to be this way? "Anakin!" Padme cried his name and took a half-step toward him. When he left, she'd probably never see him again. He'd go back to his underworld life protecting Rotta and she would carry on as normal. There was no crossover, no link to one another that he or anyone else knew. "You said that you'll leave Rotta and that life someday."

He looked at her blankly. "Yeah, I did."

Padme nodded and stepped forward again placing a trembling palm over his heart and felt it pound inside his chest. "To someday then," she said and then leaned up to kiss him. It was a soft kiss, more a brushing of lips but she could feel the passion, the want, desire and pain behind it. She could feel it from the way he groaned, the way he buried his fingers in her hair tightly and held her close. Padme opened her mouth, still gentle and her arms wound around his neck in an effort to get closer. The solid wall of muscle she met when she arched into him felt like _home_. Anakin gave another quiet groan and his hands slipped down her rib cage and landed on her hips, pulling her into himself, his fingers clutching at her almost desperately.

For a few moments, they stayed just like that, each holding the other, lost in the simple ache of being _almost_ close enough to bridge the space between them. Anakin was the one to break away first, resting his forehead against hers, unwilling to separate himself more than absolutely necessary. "Someday," he repeated, the word sounding simultaneously heavy with promise and bleak with grief as he said it.

 _Someday._

Padme held on to him for another moment, knowing all too well that as soon as she let him go he would leave. For one beautiful moment, she thought about telling him that she loved him too but it passed as quickly as it came. She _did_ love him. She loved him so much… But she had to let him go. For the sake of the twins, she could never have him. Reluctantly, Padme unwound her arms from his neck, her hands slid down over his shoulders and chest, and then she did it.

She let him go.

Their eyes met for an eternal moment before Anakin nodded once, a silent goodbye, and walked out of Padme's apartment. She watched him leave, heard the door shut softly behind him and felt her lip tremble. So, that was it then. They'd both made their choices and whatever they'd had was over. It was for the best and she knew it but that didn't stop her legs from carrying her to the door or her hand from hovering over the handle. It would be _so easy_ to run out of the door and catch up to him and try to convince him that they should make it work no matter the odds against them. She'd tell him there was no Palo and the twins were his children too.

In just a few seconds, Padme imagined a hundred happy endings for them where they were together and free. In some of them, they were partners working to take down Rotta and his empire once and for all, in others, they ran away together with their children and carved out their own little lives somewhere safe. Somewhere they could grow old and wrinkled in a simple, mundane life together, happy and content with their family.

In all of her imaginings, they were _happy_.

Padme pressed her forehead against the door and closed her eyes for a long moment.

 _Don't look back_.

She turned the deadbolt and locked the door.

* * *

He hadn't looked at this in a very long time.

The fancy, no doubt expensive, blade with pretty carvings and a silver hilt turned in Anakin's hands slowly as he looked over every inch of it. He felt the weight of the weapon in his hands as the moonlight gleamed off the reflective metal. It was a beautiful thing. Some people out there probably collected things like this – it might even be worth something if he bothered to look into it. Not that the thought had ever really occurred to him before. This blade always had another purpose in the secret agent's eyes, one more personal than money; it always had ever since he stole it from the evidence locker.

It'd been years since that day but Anakin could still remember it as if it were today.

He'd been pretty nervous walking in, worried about losing his job but told himself it wasn't _really_ stealing since it was his mother's name on the label stuck to the bag the knife was stored in. In any way that actually mattered, that bag with the knife belonged to him. It was his _right_ to have it.

Suddenly, tonight, the blade felt heavier than it ever had before. The personification of his life's work to avenge his mother's murder, the reason he'd given up everything he had was wrapped up in the knife. _This_ was his reason, his purpose for continuing on. Originally, it'd been for Jabba because _he_ was the reason… He was the one who'd let it happen… And he'd killed him for it. Yes, it'd also been about keeping Padme alive but in that moment, those precious seconds before he'd pulled the trigger the only thing Anakin had seen was the fear on his mother's face before she was killed.

So he'd pulled the trigger.

All this time, he'd expected that to be it, his revenge completed, his mission finished… He'd thought it would be freeing. But it hadn't. It wasn't _enough_ to see Jabba dead. He wanted them all dead, everyone with the surname _Hutt._ He wanted their empire in ashes and their lives ruined forever.

And he still _did_ want it.

Anakin thought back to his meeting with Jabba to plan his attack on Rush Clovis' estate, how appalling the slaughter had sounded to him… How was he any better? He shut his eyes tightly and leant his forearms on the cold black iron of the bridge he currently stood on and sighed. The truth was he _wasn't_ any better… Hadn't been for a long time. This life had dirtied him and his soul and Anakin wasn't sure it'd ever be clean again. He wasn't like Padme, his cover was never just police work, he didn't want to bring down the Hutts for the greater good. It'd been personal from the start. Even after Jabba was dead, he didn't know how to let go.

Opening his eyes, Anakin watched the current pull the river forward and into the night, saw his own blurred reflection inside of it and exhaled shakily. "I'm sorry, mom…" He whispered into the silence. "I – I got so caught up in getting revenge… I think I've lost the person you wanted me to be." His eyes looked at the blade in his hands again for a moment. "I miss you. _So much._ " It'd been a long time since Anakin could recall the sound of Shmi's voice or the feel of her arms around him. His thumb traced over the cold metal of the blade. "I still _want_ to avenge you… I want to tear them all to pieces even if that's not what you would have wanted. I know it's wrong."

Sometimes, in the dead of night, Anakin let his mind wander back to his mother. Would she even recognise the person he'd become? Would she like it? He didn't think so. The little boy Shmi Skywalker knew had been smothered a long time ago. He drowned in the blood Anakin had spilled in her name.

It'd been three months since he saw Padme and he'd felt the passing of each day far more than he had the days that made up the year he'd kept away from her. That was because things were different now. He just hadn't known it before.

The Hutt bodyguard reached into his pocket and pulled out the photograph of Padme's twin children with his free hand. He probably shouldn't have taken it, he knew that, but he needed _something_ of them… Anything. He wasn't stupid. Maybe there was another man, maybe there wasn't but those were _his_ kids. The little boy – Luke, Padme had said his name was – had his eyes and hair but it was the little cluster of freckles on the spot where his neck met shoulder that'd given it away. Anakin had the same thing. And the girl, Leia, she was his mother's image. It'd startled him at first but more nights than not Anakin fell asleep staring at the image of the children.

He didn't blame Padme for hiding them from him. Who would want a man like him as a father? He was a killer and he'd chosen revenge over his love for her… And if he'd known about the babies, he would have chosen revenge over them too.

The thought made him shudder.

Padme and his kids deserved better, Anakin was glad she'd realised that. It'd made him realise it too.

He'd realised something else too.

 _Don't look back_.

He'd been using his mother's words as a mantra without understanding their true meaning. It wasn't about the past; it was about the _future_ and looking forward to what was both here and to come. His mother would be disappointed in him but then again, Anakin had always known that. But he could change things; he was _going_ to change things. Tonight was step one.

Anakin's eyes looked down at the blade and the picture of Luke and Leia and felt a cold breeze against his face. Meeting Padme again had put him at a crossroads and it was time to pick his path. The moment passed and the bittersweet knowledge of what he had to do dawned upon him.

He slid the photograph back inside his pocket and pulled out the small burner phone that lived there instead. He kept it closer now after everything that happened, rather safe than sorry again. Flipping it open, his fingers tapped at the old buttons without prompting and dialled the only number saved into the device.

It rang three times.

"Obi-wan," Anakin spoke before the other man could, "I want out."

The words felt like freedom and poison on his lips both at once. He wasn't sure which was more bitter. Slowly, Anakin held out his hand with the blade still firmly in his grasp and thought of his mother, of Shmi and then he thought about Padme.

He let the weapon slip from his grasp, painful as it was, and fall to the murky waters below. It sank into the blackness and in just blink of an eye… It was gone. Anakin's knees felt weak. His legs trembled... He watched the river carry on without a hint of the new secret it hid in its depth.

 _It was over._

A flock of birds flew overhead, the only other witness to the death of Anakin's purpose. A few moments later, he slapped the burner phone shut as Obi-wan ended the call with a promise to meet him at the station and pushed both his hands into his coat pockets. A strange weight lifted from his shoulders, one he'd become so accustomed to carrying, it felt bizarre to be free of it. Was it wrong that part of him missed it?

Anakin glanced back at the river one last time. "I'm sorry, mom," he said again. "I know I'm not the man you wanted me to be… But from on, I'm gonna try to make you proud, I promise."

With that, he turned away from the bridge and started toward the direction of the station, thoughts focused on the future.

 ** _A/N: Please review and let me know what you think!_**


End file.
